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justanotherlifeff · 3 years

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You hated Bakugou Katsuki with every single fiber of your body. Yes, at the moment, you were running around on the streets, trying to find the site at which Bakugou was currently fighting a villain. You had finally taken it upon yourself to stop the angry blond from ruining his reputation any further by intervening whenever he had to deal with the press. Which basically meant, you had to track him during his patrols, find out where the hell he is fighting a villain and be there to stop him from running his mouth. Thanks to that, the press has now recognized as ‘the mom assistant’ as the news articles said, much to Bakugou’s irritation.

“Bakugou-kun!” you yelled, catching the blonde’s attention as he was close to starting an argument with the reporter talking to him. “Why the fuck do you always have to butt in?” Bakugou yelled at you, clearly furious, possibly because of something the reporter said. “Well, cause you need to keep your mouth in check!” you snapped at him before smiling at the reporter and saying, “Sorry sir, we’ll have to cut this short” and pulled Bakugou out of the crowd. “Stop pulling me dimwit!” Bakugou barked, yet letting you take him away despite his ability to yank you off. “Well, do you think Deku-san is gonna yell at reporters? Why do you think you never cross him at the popularity poll? Fan votes aren’t everything you know. We both want you to be the number 1, Bakugou-kun” you lectured him, something that worked every single time somehow.

Bakugou only let out a small grunt in reply, liking the fact that you always told him that you wanted him to be the number 1. In fact, he started the argument with the reporter only to have you lecture him. He had been causing way more trouble for you than usual just to hear you say how much you want him to be the number 1, since his ego, which was as big as an entire dinosaur, did not allow him to just ask you to praise him. Little did he know, it only made you more overworked, more frustrated with him.

Yes, you were absolutely hopeless on how to deal with his PR issues. The fact that you had a rather personal connection to his antics did not help either. You were wondering whether your plan to spend more time with him was a mistake, but, you did not have the heart to stop all that meaningless cooking sessions, which were not really cooking sessions anymore, but more like just hanging out together at your apartment, watching random stuff on the TV while eating whatever food he helped you cook up. Sometimes, he would ask you to show up at his regular gym with food and you would just wait there and watch him work out. The two of you would talk, and sometimes he would help you work out as well since “you can’t possibly protect yourself with that noodle arms dumbass!”.

You were at home, at 12am, thinking about possible solutions to handling a way more troublesome Bakugou, when you got a call from the team leader of his PR team. “What the fuck did he do again?” you wondered as you picked the call up. “What did he do now?” you asked, frustration clear in his voice. “Check Chargebolt’s Instagram. We are currently contacting his PR team to take down the post but seems like Chargebolt hacked into it pretty well. I’m surprised that someone as dumb as him was able to do something like that. I need you to find Bakugou and Chargebolt and get rid of the post before any further damage is done.” Was all he said before hanging up. “Damn, it must be bad…” you muttered as you got into Chargebolt’s profile. And damn, it really was bad.

The picture was of a very drunk Bakugou, who was smiling smugly at the camera. However, that wasn’t the bad part. The bad part was the two girls on both his laps, two girls who had claimed to have slept with Bakugou in the past, something you had a hard time handling, both as an assistant and as someone who was unfortunate enough to be in love with Bakugou Katsuki himself. “OH, HELL NO! NOT ON MY WATCH!” You gritted your teeth, obviously tired of his bullshit, as you slipped into some decent clothes and ran to catch the train closest to the address of nightclub that his PR team texted you about.

As soon as you reached, the bouncer stopped you, as he thought that you were a random civilian trying to get into the heroes only club. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki’s assistant. I’ve got my ID card. I need to talk to him urgently.” You told him, showing your ID card. “I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not allowed to let anyone who’s not a hero in.” the bouncer answered calmly. “Well, then I’m sorry about this.” You muttered before making a run towards the entrance, without giving the bouncer the chance to catch you. For once, you were thankful to your brat of a boss for making sure you had the stamina to run fast, thanks to tracking him all over the city for the last few months.

Thankfully, you found him quite fast, still with those two obnoxious fangirls as you charged towards him. “BAKUGOU FUCKING KATSUKI, WE NEED TO FUCKING TALK!” You snarled at him. “Damnnnn, you get all the hotties don’tcha Kacchan?” you heard Chargebolt laugh from a chair nearby, having a drink. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Bakugou asked, not even hiding the blush as he found you being angry immensely attractive. However, you were not looking at him at the moment. In fact, you were glaring so hard at Kaminari that if you had an eye lazer quirk, he’d be dead five times over.

“You, delete that fucking post. NOW!” you scolded the now scared lightening hero. “Damn… Okay okay I’m doing it jeez! You’re scarier than Bakugou wtf?” Kaminari chuckled nervously as he deleted the post with shaky hands. “Good. I’ll make sure your PR team gives you hell if you pull any shit like this again.” You gave the nervous man one last glare before directing all your wrath to Bakugou.

For once, he was smart enough to ditch the fangirls, knowing very well that pissing you off now would not end well, no matter how hot you look at the moment. “You, are coming with me.” You told him quietly, venom in your voice. The bouncer finally found you at that moment and tried to apologize to Bakugou about letting you in, however, Bakugou muttering a small “it’s fine” to him told him all about you in an instant. The pro hero never spoke quietly, which only meant that you must be important enough to interrupt his night.

“You’re too drunk to drive. Gimme your keys.” You muttered as you got out of the club with a rather tame looking Bakugou. “You can drive?” he asked, to which you snapped, “Just cause I don’t have a car doesn’t mean I can’t drive, asshole!”. To that, he simply handed over the keys to his Lamborghini to you, which you used to unlock his car and get in. Bakugou got into the passenger’s seat and after a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, he asked, “So, where are we going?” to which you answered, “your penthouse.”. “How the fuck do you know my address?” he asked. “I’m your assistant, Bakugou.” You answered, not looking at him.

The rest of the ride passed in a tense silence as you finally reached the parking lot of his penthouse. After putting his car in the designated area, you decided that enough was enough. You did not want to deal with these feelings anymore. You did not want to deal with situations where he looked at other women the way you wanted him to look at you. You decided that you should rip the bandage then and there. “Bakugou, I wanna quit the job. I’ll bring the resignation letter tomorrow.” You muttered.

To say that Bakugou was in shock was an understatement. “What? What the fuck? Why?” he asked, not hiding the hurt expression on his face. “I can’t take this anymore. Do you even realize how much trouble you cause? Why did I have to show up at a random high class night club today, run from the bouncer, shout at another top pro hero to delete YOUR picture with some random women all because you can’t keep it in your pants? Why do you constantly cause all that PR nightmare? It’s only gotten worse since I started cooking for you. One moment, you try to show up at my home to hang out for no reason and then you go through all the effort to make life harder for me. What do you want from me, Bakugou? Have I done anything wrong? Honestly, this is exactly why Deku is the number 1 hero and you’re not. If I were Deku’s assistant, he wouldn’t have….” Your voice cracked but you were stopped by Bakugou.

“You’re not his assistant. Don’t fucking say good things about him. You’re mine, (Y/N). Not Deku’s, not anyone’s, but mine.” Bakugou growled possessively. “I’m not yours, Bakugou. Those girls you sleep with on a daily basis, they are yours. I don’t want to be with someone who fucks around with random women who throw themselves at them.” You snapped back and for once, Bakugou realized that he messed up.

At the beginning, Bakugou always did as he pleased as 1, his fans loved whatever the hell he did and 2, he got his dick wet so basically, it was always a win-win situation for him. After you fell into his life (quite literally), he found out that he should do as he pleases as 1, again, his fans loved whatever the hell he did and 2, his overinflated ego wouldn’t let him confess his feelings towards you, which is why, it started as him trying to deny his feelings by fucking someone else and later, when he realized that it wasn’t working, he stopped the fucking, but pretended that he didn’t stop it, assuming that you would get jealous and confess to him first. However, now he realized that he judged the situation completely wrong.

“I won’t change what I said, (L/N). You’re mine. I’m saying that, considering everything you just said to me.” Bakugou answered after a brief pause. “So, you’re trying to tell me that you did not sleep with anyone.” You asked him with a deadpan expression. “I stopped two months ago. Pikachu posted that picture because I asked him to. I wanted you to think that I didn’t stop. You can ask all my friends about it.” Bakugou muttered, looking clearly embarrassed. “And why the fuck would you want me to think you’re fucking around?” you asked him, clearly confused. “So that you confess first…” Bakugou muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

The two of you sat there in silence before you busted out laughing. “OI! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT?” Bakugou yelled at you, his face completely red, making you laugh even harder. “My God, you’re such a tsundere!” you somehow choked out before wheezing due to laughter. Bakugou just sat there like a sulking child till you were done laughing.

“So, you’re mine. That’s settled right?” Bakugou asked you grumpily, as soon as you caught your breath. “You know, out of all the ways I expected you to ask me out, this was definitely not something I expected, and yet, somehow, this sounds exactly like something you’d do.” You chuckled softly. Bakugou only grunted as an answer. A rather comfortable silence fell between the two of you before it was interrupted yet again by Bakugou.

“So, you didn’t say if it was settled or not.” He grumbled. “Yessir, it’s settled.” You answered. A moment later, he asked again, “So, you’re not leaving the job, right?”. “Nope, I’m not.” You answered. Another brief moment later, he demanded, “Tell me that I’m better than Deku.”. “I will, if you behave.” You answered with a smile, to which he replied, “Fuck you”. “Well, then I won’t call you better than Deku” you answered with a sickly-sweet smile, making him pop a vein on his forehead. “Say it!” he barked, only to have you reply, “Deku is better than…” before you were cut off by a kiss.

You absolutely hated Bakugou Katsuki. Yes, you totally hated the fact that he won your heart. Right.

A/N: THERE WILL BE SMUT ON THE NEXT CHAPTER.

Taglist: @bonbonthedragon @the2ndl

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou × reader

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ephyla · 3 years

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Boss Lady

Hey guys, I hope you had an amazing Christmas!

This story was inspired by a post I saw a couple of months ago on a subreddit called MaliciousCompliance. I immediately thought that this is something that Hiccup and Astrid would totally do and just hoped I would be inspired to write it at some point. Well, today is that day, so enjoy!!

Summary:

MODERN AU

Her boss’s insistence on changing her dress code leaves her in a fit of rage. Good thing that she has an amazing boyfriend to help her maliciously comply to his stupid requirements.

***

‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘I’m just saying that it would be more appropriate if you dressed more like a professional.’

Astrid was internally fuming, but she tried to keep her cool in his office.

‘And what do you mean by ‘professional’ exactly?’ The young woman asked, her teeth grinding.

‘You know, dresses, heels, skirts.’ Her boss replied nonchalantly.

‘With all due respect, why am I the only one you approached with this request?’ If murder was legal, she would have skinned him alive a long time ago.

‘Because they’re not my assistant.’

***

Hiccup was preparing dinner when he heard the door slam brutally. He turned the heat off and placed the pan on a cool surface. His girlfriend, in a fit of rage, was struggling to untie her shoelaces as he walked into the living room.

‘Bad day at work?’ Astrid just grumbled. ‘Who was it this time, Thuggory? Lars?’

‘My obnoxious boss.’

‘Ah.. Should’ve guessed it. Why did he call you in his office this time? Your shoulders were distracting him? Did you show your ankles again?’ Her boyfriend dramatically gasped.

Astrid worked in a small company where the employees were not required to dress professionally since they’re not facing any customers. There’s still the A/C turned on full blast, so it wasn’t like Astrid was showing a lot of skin to begin with, not that it mattered. But her dirty old boss thought it would be appropriate to point out her attire on an almost daily basis. She quickly got tired of it and decided to have part of her closet dedicated to unflattering clothes so she could avoid being grossly objectified by her superior. Today, however, he crossed a line.

‘That pig decided that I should be wearing ‘corporate clothing since I’m his assistant’ while the others are free to wear jeans and t-shirts.’ Astrid fumed as she violently threw her bag on the sofa and stomped toward the bathroom to take shower. Not having the time to reply, Hiccup simply walked back to the kitchen to finish the cooking.

When Astrid came back, she seemed to have cooled off a bit. They sat at the table as they ate their dinner.

‘You know my dad would hire you if I asked him. You’re smart, focused and hardworking. He would love to have you as an employee. And he loves you. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even his son seeing how much he dotes on you.’ Hiccup laughs. A small smile formed on his girlfriend’s face. ‘You know he loves you to death. I’m not the one that’s getting my ribs crushed every time he hugs me because he missed me. Besides, I don’t think it’s fair for me to suddenly be hired on the spot by your father just because I’m dating you. Some more qualified people might need it more than me. I already have a decent paying job, it’s just that I hate the people I’m working with.’

‘I know, I know. But it’s also not fair for you to endure all this just for your boss’s sick pleasure. You’re not paid to be his eye-candy. You’re paid to be his assistant, and right now he clearly is trying to force you to make his disgusting fantasies a reality. Just please, think about it, alright?’ Astrid looked away, but Hiccup scooted his chair closer and caressed her cheek, making her face him again. Her frown still visible. ‘I’ve noticed you know.’ He stated.

‘Noticed what?’

‘You’ve been stressed a lot since you got this job. You barely eat or get a decent night of sleep anymore’ Hiccup traced the dark bags under her eyes. ‘You always seem irritated by something’ He brought a hand to her hand on his sleeve, trying to relax her death grip. She released him and he grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest. ‘You barely have the time for your friends and family. If we didn’t live together, I probably wouldn’t have seen much of you either. I worry about you. I miss you’ Astrid looked away again.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize th-‘

‘It’s not your fault babe. What I’m trying to say is, maybe it’s time for you to be a bit selfish. You’ve worked so hard to get where you’re at, and your accomplishments are not being acknowledged because your boss is only thinking with his dick. You deserve so much better than this. Please accept my help. Not only will the job my dad offer you will be more high paying, but also less stressful. Well, as stress less it can get with Snot and the twins.’ The pair laughed. ‘But most importantly, you’ll also be working with me.’

‘Now that last part seems very tempting.’ Astrid smiles. Working with Stoick and Hiccup definitely sounds much better than being stuck with her current job.

‘Well I sure hope so! I would take serious offence if you told me you’d rather work with that sleezy old man over me!’ Her boyfriend replies while laughing. ‘But in all seriousness, I’ll talk to my dad, I know he’ll be more than thrilled to help you. If by some thorsaken reason he refuses, then I’ll help. I mean you’ve been by my side for the longest time. You stood by me when I lost my leg and had to learn how to walk again.’ He stomps his prosthetic on the floor to prove his point. ‘It’s really the least I can do.’ Astrid sighed.

‘Alright, just this time, I’ll let you help me. Because I really can’t stand working in the hellhole anymore.’ Hiccup beams and raises the hand he’s holding to his lip, kissing her palm. ‘Great! I’ll call dad now and will let you know as soon as I’m sure you got the job. Then you can finally send your two weeks notice letter.’

‘Already written since the end of my first week on the job. For now, I just have to worry about this dumb new dress code made specifically for me.’ Astrid rolled her eyes.

‘I think I might have an idea. Let’s go to the mall this weekend.’ Astrid saw Hiccup struggling to hide a mischievous grin as he got up and walked to the bedroom to pick up his charging phone.

***

‘Hiccup, you’re missing a leg, not your sight, this is very obviously not my size.’

‘Exactly, it’s perfect, I’ll lend you one of my belts so you can keep these up.’ The piece of clothing in question were a pair brown dress pants in the size M from the men’s section. ‘Now let’s check if they have a matching blazer. I’ll also lend you my dress shirts since they’re not the main focus.’ Hiccup picked out a matching blazer in the same size and held it out to Astrid. ‘Actually, let’s find you a dress shirt so we can see how the whole outfit looks like when you go try it.’ Astrid followed Hiccup as he walked towards the shirts and picked one out.

‘Go try this first, I’ll go find a few other outfits you can try.’ He shoos Astrid to the changing rooms.

‘First outfit?’

‘I mean if you want to wear only one outfit every single day until you leave that place, that’s your choice. But it would be wiser if you had a few spares’ He replied sarcastically. Astrid scoffed and left to change.

Hiccup took his time finding a few other oversized outfits for his girlfriend. Once he was satisfied with his choice, he walked towards the changing rooms.

‘Astrid?’ He called out.

‘In here’ She replied from the very end of the corridor. ‘Honestly, I hate the outfit, but this is a great idea.’ Astrid pulled the curtains aside and dramatically posed. His bewildered expression made her laugh.

‘Well, what do you think?’ Hiccup quickly recovered from the initial shock. ‘In all honesty, terrible, but at the same time you seem to be able to pull it off.’ Astrid twirled around.

‘I think if I styled it a bit and asked Heather to sew a few things, because we all know I can’t sew to save my life, it could become a nice outfit. At least we’re not wasting money. She said as she rolled up her sleeves.

‘That’s a pretty good idea.’ Hiccup grins. ‘Is it weird that I want you to bend me over a table and call you ‘Sir’ or ‘Daddy’?’

‘Eh, maybe. I’m used to you being weird though.’ Astrid laughs. ‘But please don’t call me that, it creeps me out.’

‘Roger that. Here, I got you some other outfits. I don’t think you need dress shoes, that might be too much. You can use your pair of loafers.’ Her boyfriend handed her the clothes and went to take a seat while she tried the rest of the clothing.

***

Astrid closed the door behind her. More gently than last time indicating her much better mood. Hiccup’s head popped out of their bedroom’s doorway. He smiled when he saw her good mood and walked towards her and kissed her.

‘I assume things went well?’

‘You should’ve seen the look on his dumb face! I spent the entire day trying not to laugh!’ She rejoiced as she circled her arm around his neck. They swayed for a couple of seconds before ungraciously landing on the sofa. ‘He couldn’t really say anything, because technically, I did what he asked for. I dressed professionally. I just decided to ignore his suggestions about wearing a dress or heels. I mean, who does he think he is, my stylist?’ Her boyfriend laughed and hugged her.

‘I wish I was there to see it all. But I’m happy it worked out for you.’

‘It’s all thanks to you. Things would have gotten way worse if you didn’t have this idea. I most likely would have shoved my heel down his throat or something, probably getting myself fired in the process. Then again that’s not such a bad outcome.’ Astrid rambled.

‘What can I say, I am pretty amazi- Ow!’ He cried as Astrid lightly punched him in the shoulder. He sulked as he held on said shoulder. ‘Whyy?’

‘I could see your ego poking its head out of your oversized mop of hair of yours.’

‘Harhar, if it’s not the leg jokes then it’s got to be the hair jokes. I should’ve seen that one coming.’ He mumbled that last part. Astrid smiled and kissed him.

‘But you’re right, you really are amazing. You’re the best.’

***

I’m normally not a big fan of Modern AUs, so I kind of struggled writing this one. Either way, hope you liked it!

Happy New Year!!

#fanfic #Hiccup Haddock #Astrid Hofferson #modern au #dorks go shopping #hiccstrid fanfiction #Hiccstrid #httyd

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chelsfic · 4 years

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Make a Wish - Guillermo x Nandor One-shot (Fluff)

WWDITS Masterlist

Summary: Guillermo has the best/weirdest birthday of his life

A/N: Pure fluff and crack, enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Blood drinking, Pining, Vomit lol

---

“Master? There’s a nice virgin waiting for you in the cell and I pulled out those maps of the Carpathians you mentioned last night. Do you think you’ll be alright if I go out for a few hours?”

Guillermo holds up the heavy velvet cape, standing on his tiptoes to reach around his master’s broad shoulders. He comes around to do the clasp at Nandor’s neck and finds the vampire frowning at him in annoyance.

“What is the meaning of this, Guillermo?” Nandor whines, flipping his hair over his shoulder petulantly. “You already had a day off this year for the funeral of your grandsire! I give you one day off, suddenly you think you’re a man of leisure?! This is unacceptable! I was planning on going through my ‘90s wardrobe and making a pile for the homeless persons…”

Guillermo finishes with the clasp and runs his hands down Nandor’s arms, smoothing the fabric and certainly not secretly enjoying the feel of his master’s strong arms.

“Well, couldn’t you start working on that while I’m out and then--”

“You want me to organize my own clothes!” Nandor blusters with a stomp of his foot. “What am I, some beggar vampire who cannot keep a familiar? Doing the chores for myself, donating my own clothes to homeless...Where are you going, anyway, that’s so important you have to abandon me in my hour of need?”

“‘Hour of need’? Really--?” Guillermo pauses, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Remember why you do this. One day Nandor is going to give you eternal life. Eternal life at his side...all the time in the world for him to realize how important you are and how much he must care about you…

Feeling centered, he forces a mild smile and answers, “It’s my birthday, master. My mom is having a party for me at her house. My sisters and cousins will be there… I can’t miss my own birthday party.”

“Birth...day...party?” Nandor draws out the phrase with an exaggerated look of confusion on his handsome face. “What is this, like, your name day?”

“No, it’s--”

“Like your bar mitzvah? You are finally becoming a man, Guillermo?” Nandor’s brows draw up in the middle and a suppressed smile tugs at his lips.

“What!? No--I am a man, master…” Guillermo clenches his jaw in frustration.

“Then, what? What is the purpose of this holiday you are making up just to steal another night off from your duties?” Nandor is fully pouting now.

“It’s the day I was born! It’s a celebration for the day I was born!” Guillermo finally shouts, flapping his arms at his sides in irritation.

Nandor rolls his eyes and huffs a disbelieving laugh, “Is that all? You celebrate yourself just for being born? This seems highly pitiful, Guillermo, even for you. Come back to me once you’ve won a few battles. Then we will have a reason for making the celebration.”

Guillermo’s shoulders slump and he looks away from Nandor, suddenly feeling like he might cry. He hasn’t seen his sisters in six months!

“Alright, fine!” Nandor relents, eyeing Guillermo’s glassy eyes with a look of supreme discomfort. “You may have a few hours off from your duties to celebrate this fake holiday. What are you going to do? Is there a reenactment?! With lots of blood and screaming?”

Nandor’s eyes are suddenly lit with interest and Guillermo shudders as he answers, “Of course not, master. It’s...it’s just a party for people who care about you to celebrate that you’re alive and in their lives. And you get presents and cake.”

Nandor looks deflated and he waves his hand in dismissal, “Sounds very tedious. I’m glad you do not require me to attend, Guillermo. I will be much happier with my virgin and my maps. You may go.”

Guillermo narrows his eyes as he tries to parse out if there’s some hidden subtext to Nandor’s words. Then he reminds himself that his master isn’t known for subtlety and he shrugs, muttering a sincere, “Thank you, master” before leaving the crypt.

---

Guillermo is trudging down the dark street towards the bus stop when his master suddenly erupts out of nowhere to stand at his side. He lets out a glass shattering shriek and clutches his hand to his chest.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims to a chorus of dramatic sneers and complaints from Nandor.

“Don’t say that, Guillermo!” Nandor commands in outrage. “You know I don’t like that guy!”

“Sorry, master,” Guillermo responds on autopilot. He bunches his hands into fists in his pockets and stamps his feet against the cold. “Was there...something you needed before I go?”

Nandor’s eyes go shifty and he starts walking in the direction of the bus stop. Guillermo falls into step beside him and waits for him to speak.

“I will attend your birth party,” Nandor announces, holding his chin up and striking a grand pose as if he’s just announced he’s about to invade Anatolia--which he’s done, by the way.

“O-okay…” Guillermo is filled with confusion and a sudden, gripping terror. His master wants to come to his birthday party. At his mom’s house. Where his family will be. His very nosy, very meddling family. “But, why?”

Nandor bares his teeth in something that could be a smile or a grimace, “That virgin you got for me was very bitter! I’ll need you to procure something tastier. I will supervise your festivity until then.”

“Couldn’t you just go hunting--”

“Oh, look, Guillermo! The human motor wagon has arrived! We don’t want to miss it,” Nandor shoves Guillermo up the steps of the bus, hulking behind him and looking like a giant, goth bat as Guillermo pays their fair.

---

“Memocito! My baby, glad to see you made it to your own party. You’re only an hour late!”

Guillermo is immediately engulfed in a rib cracking hug as soon as he steps through the door of his mom’s tiny apartment.

“Hey, mama,” he says softly and not without emotion, returning the hug. He’s suddenly feeling the loneliness and homesickness that he’s trained himself to ignore on Staten Island. He clings to his mom for so long that his sisters and cousins start to laugh behind their hands at him. Whatever.

“Oh! And you have a guest, Memo?” She pulls back from the hug and eyes the tall, handsome, oddly dressed stranger lurking at the doorway.

“Uh--yeah, mom, this is my...friend, Nandor. Nandor, this is my mother, Silvia de la Cruz,” Guillermo eyes Nandor meaningfully at the word “friend,” silently willing the glowering vampire to play along. If his mother finds out this is the overbearing boss who’s been keeping her son from family functions and holidays for the last couple years…

“Friend!? Frieeend? You mean, like, boyfriend, hermano?” Gabby, Guillermo’s soon-to-be-murdered little sister, squirms her way between him and his mom, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She checks Nandor out with zero attempt to hide what she’s doing and leans in to stage a whisper in Guillermo’s ear, “He’s big!”

Nandor, choosing this moment to catch on to Guillermo’s subterfuge, nods agreeably, “Boy...friend. Yes! I am Guillermo’s boy-friend. May I come inside?”

Silvia smacks her forehead and waves him inside, “Of course! Come in! Come in! So polite he is, Guillermo! I like him!”

This is, possibly, the most embarrassing moment of Guillermo’s life. And that includes the time he peed on stage at the 4th grade play. This is worse than that. He might as well be the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka. Only instead of violet, his face is turning as red as it’s ever been. Silvia takes Nandor’s arm and draws him inside. For a split second Guillermo feels a shock of panic at the sight of his mother so close to a man who murders on a daily basis, but Guillermo calms himself. Nandor may be unintentionally rude and hurtful, but he would never hurt anyone in Guillermo’s family.

Nandor is tugged along on Silvia’s arm, an awkward smile plastered to his face as rapidfire introductions are made.

“This little brazen creature is Gabby, Guillermo’s little sister. There’s Angela over there, his older sister. And German, Pablo, Gina and Miguel--Memo’s cousins! Come, come, come what do you want to drink?”

Silvia tugs the reluctant vampire into her cramped kitchen and Guillermo can only watch, helplessly. Nandor suddenly catches sight of a crucifix hanging on the wall and hisses dramatically before being pulled out of sight.

And that’s when the scavengers descend.

“How did you meet!?”

“Oh my god, Memo, he’s so handsome. I can’t believe you’re dating a DILF!”

“--He’s not--”

“How old is he??”

“Uh…”

“Of course, Guillermo’s boyfriend is a total goth!”

“Shut up! More importantly how is he in the sack? He looks like he’d be kinky…”

“Gabby, oh my god! You’re too young to be talking like that!”

The attack ceases as Nandor reappears from the kitchen, slinking up to Guillermo’s side and wordlessly handing him a Solo cup filled with fizzing soda. Guillermo knows it’s Nandor’s way of getting rid of the offensive human beverage, but everyone else in the room makes heart eyes at the pair of them, assuming Nandor is being gallant.

The guests all settle into seats in the living room and Guillermo finds himself on the couch sandwiched between Nandor and his cousin, German, who keeps innocently bumping into Guillermo and pushing him closer and closer to the confused vampire. Guillermo ends up pressed against his master’s side, an encroachment on the vampire’s personal space that would normally result in a sharp word and a hiss of distaste. But, this time, he allows it, much to Guillermo’s intense relief. Nandor is busy fidgeting, tugging at his cape, clutching the hems and drawing it around him like a security blanket as he nervously eyes Silvia’s collection of Jesus statues.

“So,” Silvia’s eyes sparkle and Guillermo sucks in a breath awaiting the next stage of his mortification. “How did you two meet?”

Nandor opens his mouth, his eyes shifting around the room as he prepares to make up what will surely be some ridiculous story. Guillermo pipes up before he can answer, “At work! We--uh--work together.”

It’s best to stick as close to the truth as possible. Get the questioning over with. Blow out the candles. Eat some cake. And then get Nandor the hell away from his family and pray that everyone forgets this night ever happened.

Silvia frowns in distaste and Guillermo’s stomach plummets before she even opens her mouth, “Ugh! You work for that slave driver, too? What is wrong with this boss of yours, he can’t let you have a day off for Thanksgiving and Christmas? It’s not right! I keep telling you I can get you a job in the school department…”

“Mama!” Guillermo interrupts, casting a nervous glance to Nandor whose face is clouding over with outrage. “You know I love my job, come on!”

Guillermo can feel Nandor’s gaze on him and he turns to catch his eye, smiling apologetically at his master. Nandor’s eyes are wide and fathomless, he’s staring at Guillermo with an unreadable expression but at least he doesn’t look angry.

Thankfully, the conversation turns to more general topics and Nandor leans in to whisper into his ear, “Why does your mother keep calling you this name, Meh-mo?”

Guillermo is hyper aware of his sisters’ and cousins’ furtive glances. Why does his family have to be so damn nosy? Still, he can’t help the visible shiver that goes through him when Nandor’s lips brush against his earlobe. His cheeks burn when he notices Angela elbowing Gabby and nodding in his direction with an arch look.

He turns to face Nandor, trying to block out his obnoxious sisters and focus on the question, “It’s short for Guillermo. Like a pet name, kind of.”

“Pet...name? Guillermo! You are not a pet!”

Nandor’s vehement reaction catches the familiar off guard and he answers without considering his words, “It’s just an expression, master.”

He cringes, realizing his mistake at once. German stiffens beside him and slowly turns with a knowing smirk on his lips. He leans in and whispers, “Gabby was right! You’re kinky as fuck with your Count Chocula boyfriend! Oh my god, cuz!”

“It’s not--uh…” Guillermo stutters, grabbing the Solo cup off the coffee table and taking a giant swallow of soda rather than confronting his cousin’s mistaken idea. The soda goes down the wrong pipe and Guillermo sputters and wheezes, dragging ragged breaths into his lungs against the burning sensation of Coke flowing down his trachea.

“Guillermo!” Nandor yells, fluttering his hands helplessly around his familiar’s convulsing form. “What is the meaning of this? Are you having a joke? Stop at once, it’s not funny!”

Guillermo waves his master’s words away, coughing into his elbow and frantically trying to regain control of his body. This night seriously couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

German laughs, slamming a fist into Guillermo’s back as he explains, “He’ll be fine. His drink just went down the wrong way…”

Nandor glares at the man’s fist as he punches Guillermo’s back a few more times, but the method seems to work. Guillermo’s face relaxes and he starts breathing easier.

“I did not realize this celebration would be so dangerous, Guillermo!” Nandor hisses, grabbing the offending Solo cup from the table and shoving it away from his familiar’s reach. “It is a good thing I have come with you.”

Guillermo doesn’t know how to reply, so he stays silent, appreciating the ability to bring air into his lungs. Silvia finally stands and sends a little smile his way before announcing, “Time for cake!”

Guillermo grins, he’s been looking forward to his mom’s famous chocolate cake for weeks. But Nandor scowls and looks apprehensive.

“Guillermo!” he whispers, “I can’t eat the cake!”

Guillermo’s smile wavers and he stares at Nandor with a look of dawning horror. He’s thinking back to every time they visited relatives when he was younger and his mom would smack him upside the head for refusing a dish with tomatoes. In his mom’s world refusing food from your host was simply not done. You’re lactose intolerant? Not today, buddy. Don’t eat meat? Too bad. Human food turns you into a scene straight out of The Exorcist? Oh well...

“You have to!” Guillermo croaks, grabbing Nandor’s hand without thinking. “Please! She’ll be so hurt if you don’t eat it…”

Nandor frowns down at their joined hands but doesn’t move to rip away from his familiar’s touch as he normally would. Guillermo is grateful, even if he knows it’s just for the benefit of his family’s watchful eyes.

“But--”

Nandor is interrupted by the lights suddenly flicking off. Silvia appears in the kitchen doorway holding a massive cake pan studded with lit birthday candles. The sisters and cousins take up a warbly, off-key version of “Cumpleaños Feliz.” Nandor claps and mouths incorrect lyrics with a dazed expression as Silvia brings the flames alarmingly close to his familiar’s face.

“Make a wish, mijo!”

Guillermo grins warmly up at his mom, his face lit by the golden glow of the birthday candles. He can feel Nandor staring at him again and he spares him a glance from the corner of his eye. Nandor’s lips are parted and his eyes are wide. There’s a look of wonder on his face that Guillermo doesn’t understand. He turns back to the cake, taking a deep breath, shutting his eyes and wishing with all his might.

“Wow! Guillermo!” Nandor exclaims, clapping along with the others as his familiar blows out the candles. “Very good job with the blowing! You’re always so good about that at home.”

There’s a long beat of pointed silence during which Guillermo’s head comes dangerously close to exploding and every other occupant of the room attempts, with varying degrees of success, to hold in their laughter.

“Yeah, great job, Memo!” Gabby says brightly, walking over to stand by Nandor. She puts her arm around his shoulders and leans down with a wicked smirk, “Tell me more about how well my brother blows things, Nandor…”

“Gabriella!” Silvia’s voice comes out in a low warning and the teen’s face falls into a scowl but she backs off.

“Sorry, mami. I’ll be good,” she mutters, kneeling down by the coffee table and looking back up at Nandor. “You guys are seriously so cute, though.”

“Thanks?” Nandor answers, smiling uncomfortably and baring his rather obvious canine teeth. Gabby raises her eyebrows but doesn’t remark on them. Guillermo thinks about the possibility of a spontaneous sinkhole swallowing him up in the middle of his mother’s living room.

His mom retreats into the kitchen, dragging Gabby and Angela along with her. In a few moments the girls come back out and start distributing giant pieces of cake to the guests. Guillermo watches Nandor accept the plate with a false smile. He holds it at arm's length as if the food might jump off the plate and into his mouth if he isn’t careful. Guillermo sighs, it’s not really fair of him to expect his master to make himself sick just to save his mom’s feelings.

He leans into Nandor’s shoulder and whispers under his breath, “It’s fine, master. You don’t have to--”

Silvia sits down with her own slice and looks over at them, happily, “It’s your favorite, Memo! Nandor, I hope you like chocolate! I’m sure you already know how much Guillermo loves it!”

“Actually, mama--”

“It’s...delicious!”

Guillermo whips his head around to find his master determinedly chewing a giant bite of chocolate cake with agony written all over his face. A single bloody tear drop squeezes out of the corner of his eye and Guillermo quickly wipes it away with the edge of his sleeve.

“Oh...master, you didn’t have to do this…” Guillermo whispers. There’s pity in his voice but he can’t help the irresistible smile from spreading over his lips. Nandor ate human food for him. The string of embarrassments leading up to this moment is suddenly worth it. His master really does care.

Nandor is even paler than usual and he’s staring off into space with an abstracted look like a toddler who’s about to shit his pants.

“If you’ll...excuse me,” he pants, gritting his teeth to get the words out. “Where is...your human bathing room?”

“I’ll show you!” Guillermo cries, shooting up and grabbing Nandor by the arm, “It’s this way!”

His cousins and sisters give each other knowing looks, but Guillermo doesn’t care. He’s too worried about getting his master to the bathroom before he starts projectile vomiting all over his mom’s porcelain Jesus sculptures. Once they’re inside the tiny room, Nandor makes a beeline for the toilet, slamming the lid up and emptying a noxious spray of vomit into the bowl. Guillermo winces in disgust but dutifully moves to Nandor’s side, pulling his hair back and gently patting his shoulders as he pukes his guts out.

“There, there, master,” he says quietly, true affection coloring his voice.

Nandor’s back convulses dramatically for another minute and Guillermo’s heart aches with sympathetic pain. Finally, he staggers back, collapsing down onto the rim of the tub and moaning pitifully. Guillermo flushes the toilet, kneeling down in front of Nandor and putting his hand to his forehead like a parent checking a child’s temperature. He doesn’t know what he expected--Nandor can’t get a fever. But the gesture somehow feels right and Nandor leans into the touch.

“Guillermo,” the vampire whines. “My tummy hurts.”

“I know, master. I’m sorry. Thank you, though! That was...really nice of you.”

Nandor’s eyes fly open and he meets Guillermo’s gaze with a look of panicked distaste. Guillermo, holding onto hope like only he can, maintains eye contact, trying to push his gratitude and affection through his eyes. Nandor still looks nauseated. He hisses, “Nice… Nandor the Relentless is not nice, Guillermo! I just had a sudden urge to know what chocolate tastes like. And now I know. It’s disgusting!”

“Of course, master,” Guillermo agrees, dropping it for the moment. He sighs and goes to stand up when Nandor suddenly grabs his wrist and brings it up to his face, pressing his nose to Guillermo’s tender skin and inhaling deeply. Guillermo’s breath escapes him in one sharp gasp and he collapses back to his knees on the fuzzy bath mat. “M-master?”

“Can I just take a little sip, Guillermo?” Nandor asks, baring his fangs and letting them drag against the inside of his familiar’s wrist. “To settle my stomach?”

“Here!?” Guillermo’s voice comes out as an incredulous squeak. His master has fed from him only once in the two years he’s served him, and that was a drug-blood-related emergency. The idea of him piercing his fangs into his flesh and drinking...in the middle of his childhood home? It’s wrong and...suddenly all Guillermo can think about.

“Please, Guillermo! I ate chocolate cake for you!” Nandor gripes.

Guillermo’s smile is as bright as the sun. His master admitted it! He does care! He knew it!

“Alright, master,” Guillermo agrees, pressing his wrist up to Nandor’s cold lips. “Just a quick sip. My mom is right outside!”

“Quick, quick,” Nandor hums, his eyes already glowing with bloodlust. He cradles Guillermo’s wrist, holding him gently with both hands and descending onto the thin skin covering his beating pulse with a shudder of hunger.

Guillermo hisses, his face twisting with the pain even as his foolish vampire fanboy brain goes into overdrive. Nandor’s lips move against his skin and he laps the blood that flows from the wound. Guillermo can’t help the thready moan that falls from his lips at the touch of his master’s tongue on his skin.

“Oh, master,” he breathes, his eyes falling shut as he succumbs to the sensation. “That feels good.”

Nandor pulls back with a strangled groan, his familiar’s blood dripping from his lips and into his beard, “Well, of course it feels good, Guillermo! You think I want my familiar writhing around in pain while I’m feeding from him? Very annoying.”

Nandor was true to his word and he only takes a sip, laving his tongue along the open wound one last time before releasing Guillermo’s wrist. The familiar mews in disappointment before remembering where he is and how long he and his so-called boyfriend have been in the bathroom already. He grabs a couple bandaids from the medicine cabinet and slaps them over his wrist, tugging his sleeve down to cover the evidence. Then he turns to find Nandor ineffectually blotting his face with toilet paper.

“Guillermo?” his eyes are big and helpless, it’s really no wonder Guillermo is head over heels for him. “Can you help me with this?”

Guillermo reaches into his pocket and takes out the old-fashioned handkerchief he always carries for just such occasions. He holds it under the faucet for a couple seconds before going to work cleaning up his master’s bloodied mouth. Nandor watches his face with a gimlet stare as Guillermo cleans him.

“Are you having a nice birthday celebration, Guillermo?” he asks and Guillermo notes that he’s toying with his rings as he always does when he’s unsure of himself.

“Yes, master, I am,” Guillermo answers truthfully. It may be the oddest birthday he’s ever had, but it’s also shaping up to be one of the best.

The rest of the party goes by blessedly without incident. Gabby and Angela keep trying to throw Guillermo coy, knowing looks but he just evil-eyes them right back. He opens his presents and learns that Nandor is adorably interested in the whole process. He finally hands one of the gifts to Nandor to open because he’s so enamored by the glittery wrapping paper. It turns out to be a book on the history of vampires in cinema which causes Guillermo to blush for the thousandth time and Nandor to gush.

“Is there a chapter on Twilight!?” he exclaims, flipping through the pages. “There is! This is an excellent gift, Gabby.”

Guillermo’s pretty sure he’s not getting the book back, but it’s kind of worth it.

When the time comes to leave everyone lines up for hugs and Guillermo is mortified to find that his family fully expects Nandor to join in. But he’s once again surprised by his master this evening. The vampire who cringes away from Guillermo’s merest touch returns his mother’s embrace warmly.

Nandor bends his head down to Silvia’s level and says, “You’ve made me a very good boy, thank you.”

“You’re...welcome?” she catches Guillermo’s eye and laughs before pulling him into the hug, too. Guillermo thrills as his master’s arm opens to admit him into the embrace. “Don’t be such a stranger, mijo. Tell your boss you need more time to come see your poor mama, okay?”

Nandor stiffens slightly. The look he gives his familiar is almost guilty. Guillermo’s eyes tear up a little and he squeezes his mother tighter, “I will, mom. Te quiero.”

---

Nandor is quiet on their way out of the apartment building. He waits until they’re out in the open air of the night before finally speaking.

“What were those words you were saying to each other before we left, Guillermo? Taky arrow?” he questions.

Guillermo laughs, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. “Te quiero,” he corrects. “It means ‘I love you.’”

Nandor falls quiet again and Guillermo looks up to see that he’s mouthing the strange syllables with a look of intense concentration on his face.

“Te quiero,” Guillermo repeats more slowly, attempting to assist his master’s efforts.

“That’s...nice, Guillermo. Thank you,” Nandor responds haltingly, looking uncomfortable and refusing to meet his eyes.

“What!? No, I--”

“Is that why you insisted on allowing your family to believe we are lovers?” Nandor asks and he injects a tone of disapproval into his voice.

“I didn’t! That was you--”

“Highly impertinent, Guillermo. Really!” Nandor scolds and Guillermo feels the light bubble in his chest start to deflate.

He lets out an annoyed huff of air and struggles momentarily to shift the oversized bag of gifts in his arms before Nandor rolls his eyes and takes it from him, managing to carry it with ease. There’s that annoying hope again. How can Nandor say such things and then turn around and do things like hold his bag for him and poison himself with human food just to protect his mother’s feelings?

“Why did you really come tonight, master?” Guillermo asks, his voice quiet and fragile. “Please tell me the truth. For my birthday.”

“I--” Nandor stops, hissing and rolling his eyes as he struggles with the words. “You said that birthday celebrations are for people who care about you to celebrate that you are alive...and I’m very glad that you’re alive, Guillermo.”

Tears sting at Guillermo’s eyes and he can’t help the blinding smile that lights up his face at his master’s admission. It may not be a declaration of love, but for Nandor the Relentless it was pretty damn close. They walk another block toward the bus stop before Nandor breaks the silence once more.

“Do you want to have your final birthday present, Guillermo?” His voice is shy, hesitant.

Guillermo’s eyebrows lift in surprise, “Yes, master!”

“Alright, assume the position,” Nandor moves until he’s standing at Guillermo’s back. The human let’s out a surprised gasp when his master’s arms wrap around him, pulling him tightly against his chest. “Hold on tight, Guillermo!”

And then they’re flying! Guillermo’s hands clutch Nandor’s forearms in a vice grip as they float higher and higher. He watches his mom’s streat shrink until it’s a slim ribbon of light crisscrossed with others and forming a glittering net over the firmament far below. A wild laugh bubbles up from Guillermo’s throat and he squeezes his eyes shut in exultation as he cries, “Master! We’re really flying!”

“Really, really, Guillermo!” He can hear the smile in his master’s voice and it lifts his heart even higher. The air is cold and bracing around him, but the dizzying spectacle of flying more than makes up for the shivers that slowly creep over Guillermo’s vulnerable human body.

“This is amazing!” Guillermo cranes his neck to look up at Nandor. His hair is whipping in the wind behind him and his sharp fangs are bared in a wide, happy smile.

His eyes flick down to meet Guillermo’s and he leans closer, his beard caressing Guillermo’s smooth cheek as he asks, “Is this what you wished for on your cake candles?”

The happy sound that erupts from Guillermo’s throat is part laughter and part hysterical sob. All of a sudden he knows he’s about to do something that he can never take back. He turns, squirming carefully in Nandor’s grip until they’re facing each other. He fastens his arms tightly around the vampire’s broad shoulders and answers, “Not exactly…”

And then he leans in and kisses his master square on the lips. For a split second they dip dangerously in the air and Guillermo feels his stomach swoop within him. And then Nandor’s arms tighten into an almost painful grip and he’s returning the kiss, pressing his lips to Guillermo’s with bruising force as they fly through the night sky. Guillermo strokes his impossibly warm tongue over Nandor’s cool, plump lower lip. Nandor growls and opens his mouth, allowing Guillermo inside, allowing his human to conquer and pillage his mouth. His little fierce, soft warrior. Their tongues stroke and pulse against one another. Nandor nibbles and suckles Guillermo’s sweet, pouty lips. Guillermo wishes with all his heart that he could reach up and sink his fingers into Nandor’s hair, but he dares not let go of his grip on the vampire’s shoulders. He shifts his focus, moving his mouth to Nandor’s cheek and kissing the rough, lovely edge of his bearded jaw with reverence that borders on worship. He ventures down beneath his jaw and teases the tiniest little nip on Nandor’s skin.

The breath goes from Nandor’s lungs and he whispers something. The words are almost drowned out by the fierce wind around them, but Guillermo hears.

“Tay kee arrow, Guillermo.”

The bag of gifts plummets to the earth a little while later. Nandor is wrapped in his familiar’s embrace, his hands seeking and discovering Guillermo’s plump, delicious body.

The vampire curses and grumbles, “We’re not going back for that!

#nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandermo #wwdits #wwdits fanfic #fluff

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mayquita · 4 years

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Damn You For Making Me Love You (9/15) - Wonderwall

Thank you so so much, for your likes, reblogs, kudos and comments. It means the world to me.

Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd I couldn’t have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.

Special mention to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. Thank you again to the moderators of the event, @captainswanbigbang for giving us this opportunity and making this possible. You all are the best :)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma’s best friend and Liam, Killian’s brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.

Rating: M

Word count: ~ 6200 (98k total in 15 chapters)

Ao3 / FFnet

About this chapter: New flashback with a new song included. This chapter also includes one of my favorite scenes so far. And… movie night may not go as expected…

Chapter 8: Wonderwall

Emma - Two years ago

It was strange for Emma to be reluctant to go to work, at least since she had begun her journey at The Kraken. There was a reasonable explanation for this occasion, though. She was upset with Killian.

She wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was aware that it had been a stupid fight. One minute they were bickering about nonsense, as was their usual practice, and the next minute the quarrel had become heated, voices raised more than necessary, to the point that Emma had lost her patience. After showing her middle finger and muttering a fuck you, she had left the bar without even waiting to finish her shift.

Now less than twenty-four hours later, Emma still felt some anger running through her veins. Instead of a burning sensation, however, it was more like a warm flood with a persistent presence, which seemed to weaken as the hours progressed, but hadn’t disappeared altogether.

She certainly didn't enjoy being mad at Killian, since that only added more fuel to the fire swirling inside her. It was as if she couldn't help teasing him on a daily basis. But at the same time, she was afraid to push too hard, risking him getting tired of her or, worse, realize that she wasn't worth the effort. It wouldn't be the first time, would it? After all, they were just friends and coworkers.

The fact that neither Killian nor his brother had tried to contact her after the fight did not help calm her inner turmoil and even made her less inclined to go to the bar and face them.

But Emma wasn't a coward. She had dealt with worse. What was the worst that could happen? Being fired? Nah, she was too valuable for The Kraken. Losing Liam's trust? That would hurt, but after all, Liam hadn't even witnessed the argument, since he had appeared from the back room just as she left. Losing Killian's friendship? A shiver ran down her spine at that possibility. No, it was only a small quarrel that had gotten out of hand. She was going to enter the damn bar, find Killian, and they were both going to have a civilized conversation like the two adults they were, right?

Those were the thoughts that ran through her head when she finally gained enough courage to open the door and enter the premises. Any coherent thought vanished from her mind, though, when her eyes fell on Killian, who was — how could it be otherwise— in the middle of the stage, guitar in hand.

Whatever he was singing, he stopped at the moment their eyes met. Emma held her breath as her heart pounded hard against her ribcage. The moment her gaze drifted to his lips meeting a warm smile, she let out a sigh of relief.

When he began singing after giving her one last intense look with the ability to shake her inside, she realized that her fears had proved unfounded, that today wasn't going to be the day Killian got tired of her. She hoped that day would never come.

Today is gonna be the day That they're gonna throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realized what you gotta do I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do, about you now

The remnants of her anger melted away as the lyrics of the song penetrated her system and traveled straight to her heart, adding another new crack to the almost impenetrable shell that protected it.

She remained there in the middle of the room, unable to take her eyes off him, while her lips moved on their own, a soft humming sliding between them while the two of them advanced in unison through the melody. A strong sense of deja-vu seized her, transporting her to that time two years ago, when they first met in a similar situation.

There are many things that I Would like to say to you but I don't know how Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me And after all, you're my wonderwall

My Wonderwall… She tried not to read much in the meaning of the lyrics, and convinced herself that the choice of the theme hadn't been planned, that he simply enjoyed Oasis and Wonderwall was one of his favorite songs. Still, that didn't stop a small spark of hope from lighting her heart. It was a dangerous feeling, she was aware of it, since that spark could either become a fire or weaken until she was surrounded by darkness again.

The last strums from the guitar brought her back to reality. She shook those thoughts away, remembering at that moment the possible reason for his improvised performance.

"So, is this your way of asking me to make up?" Emma asked, trying to use a carefree tone.

"Is it working?" Somehow he managed to get his features to show an apologetic expression while keeping a playful gleam in his eyes as his lips drew an adorable pout, getting her heart to melt a little more in the process. He was too charming for his own good.

"Uhm. I'm not sure yet."

"Come on, Swan. It was just a tiny disagreement that maybe got a little out of hand, but..." He paused as he scratched behind his ear, his eyes cast down to the floor for a moment. "I don't like you being mad at me," he admitted, looking back at her.

She held his gaze, losing herself in the depth of the ocean in his eyes. Only when she realized that her lips remained sealed, she blinked, breaking the spell. "I don't like you being mad at me either." She shrugged, her lips curving in a half-smile.

"Well, I suppose that means you have already made peace. Can we go back to work now?" Liam's unexpected voice caused a startle in her. Emma's eyes followed the direction of the sound until she found her boss walking from the back room. She bit her lower lip feeling a little embarrassed since she hadn't even noticed Liam's presence — or rather his absence — until that moment. She cast a sidelong glance at Killian who responded by winking at her before leaving the stage.

Just as Emma turned in the direction of the bar, she felt Killian's presence right behind her. "By the way, I guess we have already found our make-up song, haven't we?" His warm breath caressed her ear for a moment before walking away without looking back.

The bastard was right. That might be the first time he used Wonderwall as a sort of apology, but it certainly wouldn't be the last. The song had found its place in their particular soundtrack, no doubt.

Emma - December 2019

The night had become torture but not the kind Emma was waiting for, much to her dismay. The new plan developed by Liam and Elsa seemed promising at first — It was a perfect excuse to spend time with Killian. Not that she needed any reason for it, honestly, but it was turning out to be a disaster, at least for her.

They had gathered in the Jones' apartment, Anna and Kristoff joining them to enjoy what they called a Movie Night. The night had started well, they all settled into the living room while they watched a movie. Killian at her side, his arm around Emma's shoulders, her hand on his thigh, close to his knee. The dim lighting, the good company, and the warm atmosphere made her feel comfortable. She didn't need anything else. Well, that wasn't true, but she couldn't ask for more given her situation.

Things had begun to change for the worse when, after finishing the movie they were watching, they decided to continue the Movie Night by starting a new activity, playing a game of charades to guess movies through mimicry.

Emma had never been a fan of this kind of game, first because she had grown up in an environment where family games were not usual for obvious reasons. In addition, she had always considered herself quite competitive, taking things very seriously even if she was playing with friends.

Still, she had made an effort at first. Emma couldn't deny that she felt a little over the edge lately. She wasn't sure of the reasons, but she suspected that perhaps the escalation of feelings swirling inside her had something to do with her frequent mood swings.

Since the week before, she had spent more time being angry than in a good mood. She didn't want to become a killjoy once again, so she had decided to give the game a chance.

At least Killian and Emma had ended up on the same team. That was a positive point, right? They formed a good team and since the game was inevitable, her competitive side wasn't going to accept anything less than victory. Kristoff was the third member of their team. Opposite them, Elsa, Liam, and Anna were the members of the rival team. Emma suspected that the distribution had been somehow rigged by Elsa and Liam, but she didn't really care as long as Killian was on her side.

Her good intentions lasted only a few minutes, though. The moment they started playing, she remembered the reason she had been reluctant at first. She hated this damn game. Liam and Elsa were really connected. Anna and Kristoff helped each other despite belonging to rival teams. On the contrary, there was no understanding between Emma and Killian.

"What's wrong with you? Can't you see my hands? It's a fucking shark!"

"What? Do you mean your joined hands as if you were praying? I have a vivid imagination, love... but that... that wasn't a bloody shark."

"Guys... it's just a game." Elsa, showing off her usual composure, addressed them in a calm voice. After taking a last sidelong glance at Killian, Emma pressed her lips together and let it pass, dropping onto the couch and keeping silent. The peace did not last long, though.

It was extremely frustrating. No matter what she tried, Killian almost never managed to figure out any of her movies. When it was Killian's turn to do the charades, Kristoff guessed the movie even before Emma had figured out what Killian was trying to express.

"Let yourself go, Swan. It's like you are restrained and don't let your body language express itself freely."

Emma's frustration was transforming into growing annoyance towards him to the point that she had to suppress the urge to punch him in the face. "Oh, of course, I'm the problem in all this, right?" she snapped, noticing how the anger began to run through her veins without her being able to do anything to stop it.

Deep down, she was aware that she was being irrational, that she was getting mad at her best friend for a stupid game. But her level of agitation in recent days was taking the reins lately by inciting her to act this way, pushing and challenging him. It was as if she was looking for a reaction from him, just itching for a fight.

"I didn't mean that, Swan."

"And what did you mean? Enlighten me, buddy," she challenged him with her arms crossed over her chest and her chin raised slightly.

"Forget it..."

Killian at this point was getting angry too. His frown and his clenched jaw gave him away, but that didn't stop her from keep insisting. "Wasn't I like an open book for you? Maybe it's you who has the problem; maybe it's you who doesn't understand me."

"Guys..." This time it was Liam being the one trying to keep the peace, but his brother raised a finger to cut him off before he advanced a couple of steps, almost invading Emma's personal space and stared at her with fire in his gaze.

"Do you think I don't understand you? I think it's rather that you're afraid to express yourself, to reveal too much. That's why this bloody game isn't working."

Killian's eyes bore into hers with such intensity that she felt as if a spell had fallen on her, making her unable to look away as a chill ran down her spine at the overwhelming sensation that Killian was not talking about the game anymore, but rather he was reading right into her very soul. Damn Bastard.

She blinked a few times to break the spell, but that didn't stop the fire in Killian's gaze from still threatening to burn her inside, so she felt the need to protect herself in some way, although she wasn't sure who was she protecting herself from — From him or from herself?

The bad thing was that the only resource she found — apart from running — was to behave like a spoiled girl. And that was precisely what she did. "Okay, since apparently I don't know how to play, you better go on without me," she mumbled, dropping into the armchair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So you give up."

Killian's voice full of disappointment acted like an arrow piercing Emma's heart. She didn't even dare to look at him for fear of the expression she might find.

"Emma, come on. We're doing this to have fun. Who cares if we guess more or fewer movies?" Although Emma was grateful for Liam's conciliatory attempt, she was no longer in the mood.

Her boss wasn't the only one who tried to convince her to continue in the game. The two sisters also tried. Elsa crouched down to her level and addressed her in her usual calm tone as she gave her a meaningful look. Even Kristoff, who normally did not get involved in such situations, also tried to cheer her up. "We can always switch teams. What do you think about boys versus girls?"

She felt grateful, really, but all those attempts, far from helping her, were causing her mood to become bleaker as a sense of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach and old demons decided to pay her a visit in the form of a reminder that she really didn't deserve all of their attentions after her childish behavior. Still, she was tempted to reconsider and return to the game. She almost did it. But then Killian had to speak, throwing it all away.

"Don't even try. I already got tired of this game anyway."

Emma’s stomach twisted in regret. Seriously, what's wrong with me lately? Although she tried to avoid it, she couldn't resist the urge to cast a sidelong glance at Killian, who had also dropped into the armchair in front of her and wore a grim expression.

"Come on! Stop acting like kids. You two are infuriating." Liam's words did not surprise Emma, since it wasn't the first time he addressed them that way, although this time his voice showed more annoyance than on other occasions, where he normally used a rather amused tone.

Well done, Emma. You have managed to ruin the night for everyone. Her cheeks began to burn with a mixture of shame and regret, tears pricking at the back of her eyes so she had to blink a few times to keep them from falling.

"It's okay. It's a movie night, isn't it? We can continue watching a movie, right?" Emma was never as grateful to have a friend as Elsa as at that moment, always coming to her rescue without losing her composure. No doubt Elsa knew her well enough to know what she needed at all times. The lump formed in her throat prevented her from uttering any sound, so she merely gave Elsa a look of gratitude while she mouthed a silent thank you.

The desire to cry returned. There was no doubt that the spiral of mixed feelings was wreaking havoc on both her heart and her head, running wild inside and collapsing between the two until they made a mess of her, leaving her unable to keep them at bay. Still, she swallowed hard and nodded in approval as the corners of her lips moved upward in an attempt at a smile.

There were also sounds of approval from both Liam and Killian, but it seemed that Anna and Kristoff were going to take advantage of the situation to run away. After offering an apologetic expression, Anna said goodbye but not before commenting that since the night had been ruined it was better for them to go to bed soon as they would have to get up early the next day. It was a poor excuse, Emma was aware, but she didn't really blame her.

Unfortunately, the sudden absence of Anna and Kristoff did not magically cause the tension to fade. On the contrary, it made it more evident. Killian sat in front of her, his gaze wandering everywhere but her, while Liam had taken a seat on the large couch, his lips pressed together, and disappointment written all over his face. Emma also cast a sidelong glance at Elsa who, after letting out a heavy sigh, grabbed the TV remote and sat on the couch next to Liam.

"So I guess we're watching a comedy to liven up the atmosphere, right?"

During the next hour, they watched the movie in silence although the truth was that Emma was not paying attention at all. Her frustration was increasing as time passed while her mind was plagued with troubled thoughts that prevented her to concentrate on the plot of the movie. In addition, the fact that Elsa had chosen a romcom did not help to calm her inner turmoil, but rather the opposite.

Killian had also kept silent the entire time. His stormy expression had disappeared from his face, though. The few furtive glances she had dared to throw at him had allowed her to glimpse a guarded expression and dull eyes, with no trace of his usual vivacity.

A wave of fear seized Emma at the possibility of having ruined their friendship beyond repair. Still, a flame of hope warmed her heart. That flame became stronger every time she caught him throwing her a sidelong glance. The moment their eyes met, he looked away, but not before offering her the ghost of a smile. Or at least that was what she preferred to imagine in her attempt to keep that spark of hope burning.

A deep breath coming from the couch made Emma look in that direction. The ache in her heart eased a little at the sight she had in front of her eyes. Both Elsa and Liam had fallen asleep while watching the movie. But what touched her most was the position they had acquired. Liam had one of his arms around Elsa's shoulders, while she rested her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist. Almost all her worries melted away as her lips moved on their own, drawing her first genuine smile of the night. It seemed that the night had not been a total disaster after all.

Just then, an unexpected murmur made that spark of hope grow more intense, a small wave of emotions rising in her chest. It was a barely audible hum, but Emma could identify that melody in any circumstance since that particular song had become part of the soundtrack of her—their— life. Her gaze turned to Killian once again who was humming Wonderwall, even though this time he didn't look away from the television. Emma could do nothing but use that offer of peace as the last impulse she needed to act like an adult and leave behind at least part of her fears and concerns. That's why she decided to get up and walk directly to Killian.

"I'm sorry," she muttered when she was close enough, her stomach clenched into knots in anticipation as she bit her lower lip, waiting anxiously for his reaction.

Killian did not respond immediately. He even stopped humming, keeping his eyes down, his torso tilted slightly forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he pressed the fingers of his hands together in a thoughtful posture. Only when he finally looked up to meet her eyes was Emma able to let out the breath she had been holding.

"I'm sorry, too." A deep breath escaped between his lips as he kept his eyes fixed on Emma's. The spark of hope in her heart began to burn more intensely as she saw how Killian's eyes regained that glow she loved so much. When his lips curled into a soft smile, she couldn't help but smile back while suppressing a sigh of relief. "Come here," he offered, waving his hands toward her in a signal for her to approach. She, of course, obliged.

The moment she sat on Killian's lap and was wrapped in his protective arms, all her worries vanished. It was as if the swirl of feelings inside her had suddenly calmed down, giving way to a soft, warm breeze. Emma really hoped to be able to more effectively control her emotions to prevent this from happening again. But she would have time to worry about that later. Now all her attention was focused on the immensity of pleasant sensations that their current position meant for her.

No matter what others might think of seeing them act that way, she snuggled even more, burying her face into his chest in her desire to feel his solid, warm body pressed with hers. Killian, meanwhile, tightened his hug and placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

"I wonder what's going on in that head of yours lately, Swan," he muttered into her hair, not a hint of reproach in his voice, but rather a mixture of curiosity and concern. "It's as if the current chapter of your book was being written in a kind of invisible ink and, as much as I try, I can't figure you out."

A soft chuckle bubbled in the back of her throat. Continuing with the simile of the open book, Emma replied, unable to avoid a bittersweet touch in her words. "Maybe I'm going through a kind of writer's block and I just have a few blank pages in front of me that I don't know how to fill in."

Emma felt as Killian tensed slightly. Then, he touched her chin and pushed it gently, forcing her to raise her head and look him in the eye. "I'm not sure I like hearing that, love."

She shrugged before adding, "Look at it from this angle. A blank page implies an infinite world of possibilities, doesn't it? I just have to decide which way to go. And since you know how to read me so well, you could also help me decide, couldn't you?"

For some reason, Emma found this metaphorical conversation quite revealing. But far from frightening her, it only strengthened her feelings. Even so, Emma accompanied her words with a promising look through her eyelashes, trusting that somehow, Killian would capture their meaning.

"I'm here, for whatever you need, Emma." Her heart skipped a beat when her name slipped between his lips. She was so used to his endearments that whenever he addressed her by her own name, there was an instant effect on her. With his next words, the butterflies in her stomach began to flutter furiously. "But you are the only one who can decide how the next chapter of your life will develop."

I still don't know what I want to happen in the next chapter. I just know that I want you to be my co-star. In all the chapters of my life, if possible. She was so tempted to say those words out loud, to the point that they burned on the tip of her tongue. Especially when there was so much intensity —and hope— in his gaze. She was able to contain herself, though, but that didn't stop her from saving those words, because something told her that she might be able to use them in the future.

The only thing she was able to offer him at that moment was a look full of promises and a smile of gratitude, while her heart pounded hard against her chest. "What I do know is that I'm tired of fighting, so there will be no more fights in the next chapter, I promise."

"Good."

Unable to hold Killian's gaze any longer without doing something crazy like kissing him senseless, she buried her head again into his chest. Although she wasn't sure if it would help calm her emotions or otherwise shake them further.

She wasn't lying, she didn't want to spend more energy on absurd fights. She was the only one to blame, she was aware of it, but it was so hard to suppress her feelings that sometimes she acted that way as a kind of defense mechanism.

But she didn't need to behave defensively with Killian. She herself was her worst enemy; she and her fears, her indecisions, her demons from the past. It was with herself that she had to fight to tear down the barrier that prevented anyone from reaching her heart. She was willing to surrender and hand over the key to Killian, but she was aware that she still had to fight more battles until she reached that moment of surrender. At least her current position showed a step forward on that path, right?

"I can hear you thinking, Emma." Killian's soft voice brought her back to reality. Of course, he had figured that her thoughts had been rambling. It was a bit overwhelming that he knew her so well, despite their previous jokes about the open book thing and how bad they had played the stupid game. "Close your eyes and relax, love," he whispered, his voice having an instant effect on her which was increased by his next move. Killian's hand slid slowly under her shirt, his fingertips beginning to trace delicate patterns on her skin.

Emma's eyes closed instantly as she lifted her head slightly and rested it on his shoulder, her nose a few inches from his neck. The feeling of being curled up in his arms was so pleasant that she decided to get carried away by the sensations, parking all her worries at least for a while.

She felt unable to fight her body's reactions, so she simply gave up and allowed herself, for once, to express herself freely; at least with her body language. She didn't mind that the gentle brushing of his fingers on her skin caused a trail of goosebumps. She didn't mind that he noticed it either.

Emma noticed how her muscles relaxed and the tension began to leave her body, being replaced by something much more pleasurable but also more dangerous. Desire.

He was so warm and smelled so good that her whole body hummed, prompting her to do something, whatever it was, in order to prolong those sensations that surrounded her. Her heart pounded hard against her chest and a burning sensation traveled through her veins to her very core. She felt so intoxicated by his scent and her lips were so close to the skin of his neck that they began to tingle, craving to savor him. She had no choice but to act.

After letting out a soft exhale in anticipation of what was to come, she let her bold side take the reins so, after only a brief moment of hesitation, she finally —finally— pressed her lips to his skin just over his pulse point.

It was just a feather-soft touch but it had the ability to send electric shocks of pleasure up her spine. Emma also noticed how the movements of Killian's fingers on her skin slowed, while he let out a deep breath. She remained still for a few seconds while her heart threatened to get out of her ribcage. When his fingers began to move again as he tightened his embrace she let out the breath she had been holding.

Deep down, she was aware that she had started a dangerous game, but after so long suppressing her feelings, she deserved this brief moment of freedom. So, far from slowing her progress, she raised her hand to gently brush the other side of his neck, her fingers tangled in the locks of hair that grew at his nape's level, while her lips continued their tentative path over his skin.

Killian, meanwhile, did not remain inactive in this new level of intimacy. His hand began to move up on the side of her torso, pausing a few inches from the curve of her breast, causing a rush of heat to pool in her belly.

Although all the fibers of her being were screaming at her otherwise, Emma kept a certain lucidity, restraining herself in some way and keeping her kisses to just the brush of her lips on his skin, leaving an almost imperceptible wet trail over the length of his neck.

Even so, she was more lost in sensations than she thought, since she took a few seconds to realize that her actions were causing a reaction not quite subtle in Killian. The moment she noticed something hard pressing against the outside of her thigh while he let out a soft moan, she thought she might combust, her cheeks burning as her heart hammered in her chest.

Just when she was willing to take the next step and lift her head even more in search of a new target, an unexpected sound in the form of a loud snore brought her back to reality, breaking the lust spell she had fallen into and causing her to jump literally out of Killian's lap.

"Holy shit," she muttered as she put a hand to her chest, in an attempt to calm her racing heart. The realization not only of what had just happened but of the place where it had happened caused her stomach to tighten into knots, while a mixed feeling of embarrassment and regret threatened to crawl up into her throat. She forced herself to swallow hard, though, dragging that feeling away before it surfaced. She had done nothing wrong, she had simply got carried away by the situation.

Before Emma's eyes went to the couch to see if her friends were still sleeping, she cast a sidelong glance at Killian, catching how he discreetly adjusted his pants. To her great delight, he seemed a bit flustered, his cheeks and the tips of his ears colored a soft pink, his lips parted slightly. When he shook his head as if trying to get out of his trance, she couldn't help a wave of pride washing over her as her lips moved on their own, drawing a satisfied smile.

At least Elsa and Liam were still asleep, she (they) could treasure the brief intimate moment as something unique and, in some way, secret, despite the circumstances. Even so, all the desire that had been boiling under her skin had cooled, giving way to a lingering warm sensation. After casting one last look at Killian, who seemed to slowly return from his awed state, she grabbed her phone and took a couple of photos of the two sleeping lovebirds.

They would have to talk at some point. Emma suspected that what had just happened marked a point of no return in their relationship. From there they could only move forward, although she was still unsure as to what would be the right path to follow, especially since her fears had not yet completely abandoned her; she had simply changed her perspective.

In addition, a strange feeling of deja vu had settled in the pit of her stomach. She had already experienced that feeling on other occasions, precisely at the times when she had shared some intimate moment with Killian. It was as if her brain was trying to remember something, but that memory was so buried in the depths of her mind that she was unable to reach it.

Emma shook those thoughts away, she would have time to worry later. Still, she wanted to make sure everything was still alright between them. Although it was obvious that she wasn't going to return to her previous position, she felt the need to stay close to him so she did not hesitate to sit on the floor, just in front of his armchair while her eyes sought his gaze.

"When do you think your brother will decide to ask Elsa out?" she asked in a tone that she hoped was carefree enough.

Before answering, he cleared his throat and shook his head once more, before addressing her. "I'm not sure, love, especially considering that, according to your theory, they would already be dating in secret." Although he was smiling as if nothing had happened, Emma could detect that he was still affected, at least by the fact that there was a slight inflection in his voice and his pupils were still dilated.

After a considerable effort, she managed to take her eyes off him, forcing herself to turn her gaze back to the two lovebirds. "Do you think we should wake them up? They're so adorable curled up there..."

"Aye. I think it's better if we wake them up. Liam doesn't take very well to falling asleep on the couch. He usually wakes up even more grumpy than usual."

"Seriously? Now I want to see how he reacts when he realizes his current situation." Emma got up, but not before offering him a wide smirk. Killian responded with a quiet chuckle, causing her stomach to flutter. Gods! She was hopeless regarding the effect that man had on her.

Emma needed three attempts to wake Liam and Elsa as they were sound asleep. When they finally opened their eyes, they looked at her first with the same confused expression on their faces and then looked at each other. By the time they realized that they had fallen asleep hugging each other they jumped and tried to untangle their limbs. Emma pressed her lips together to suppress the laughter that bubbled in her throat caused not only by seeing their reaction, but by remembering that she had reacted exactly the same a few minutes earlier.

Elsa seemed quite disoriented and sleepy and Emma almost felt sorry for her, but Liam, always the gentleman, immediately focused on her to make sure she was alright.

"It's quite late, lass. You're staying for the night, aren't you? There's always a bedroom available for both of you." Liam offered, a hint of hope evident in his voice. Emma didn't miss that, although he had addressed the two of them, Liam's eyes had never turned away from Elsa.

"I don't know, I have to get up early tomorrow." Elsa's cheeks blushed as she looked away in Emma's direction as if she were seeking her approval. Emma nodded silently as she gave her a smile of encouragement. "I can't keep my eyes open, though. That movie was definitely not my best choice."

Emma and Killian exchanged a knowing glance while Emma arched an eyebrow in what she expected was an expression full of intention. Killian seemed to catch the hint and decided to take part in the conversation, but not before giving Emma a mischievous grin and winking at her, an act that had absolutely no effect on her.

"I'm sure there are sleeping clothes for you in the closet, love. One of the advantages of Emma falling asleep here most of the time."

He was right. Emma no longer needed to bring pajamas when she came to the apartment for one of their Netflix sessions. She had learned the lesson the day she fell asleep for the first time there.

"Let me accompany you then, Elsa." As he spoke, Liam stood up and held out his hand to her, which Elsa accepted, the corners of her lips raised slightly drawing a timid smile.

"Are you coming, Emma?"

"Nah." Emma waved her hand in front of her as she grabbed the TV remote and then settled on the couch. "Now that the couch and the remote are finally free, I think it's my turn to choose. What do you say, Jones, are you up for one last movie?"

"Does that mean you've already made up? How long have we been sleeping, lass?" Liam's exaggerated tone of surprise caused everyone to burst out laughing.

Emma still couldn't believe that the night had ended so well after that disastrous start. She could even notice it in the environment. The previous tension had given way to something less thick; a light, almost magical sensation, the air full of promises and possibilities flowing around the four friends.

For the first time in four years, Emma felt that perhaps it was time to confess her feelings and jump into the void. She was more certain than ever that Killian's arms would not only hold her but he would never let her fall. Now she only needed the determination that would allow her to take that decisive final step.

Wonderwall by Oasis

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Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

We finally got a kiss, didn't we? Ok, it might not be the kiss that everyone was waiting for, but this story has been tagged as a slow burn for a reason, right? Anyway, no spoilers but we may not have to wait much longer for that to happen. After all, there are only a handful of chapters left to reach the end...

What to expect in the next chapter? We'll witness what happens the morning after the movie night. Also, the next chapter includes one of the scenes I enjoyed writing the most and... a new performance. Or maybe two...

#cs ff #captain swan #cs au #csrt #damn you for making me love you #cs au ff #captain swan rewrite a thon #mayquita writes #my cs writings

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itsomgitsgreenblogging · 4 years

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Labor of Love Chapter 2: A Critical Role Shadowgast Fanfic

Well, I was utterly floored by the amount of love I got on the first chapter of the fic, and so I felt that I had enough ideas and time to continue it. Seriously, thank you to everyone who supported chapter one, and here’s hoping you continue to enjoy this fic! Considering I’m still in a quarantine, I have plenty of time on my hands lol.

I took inspiration from the food section of the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount, so let me just say, thank you so very much Essek server for helping me! You guys are, as always, the best.

Read on AO3

Read Ch 1 on Tumblr

Preview:

Each cupcake looked like a treasure chest, decorated and drizzled and shiny. Each cupcake was almost too much of a display to consider blemishing. From the candied lemons on the Radler to the swirl of the tamarind-vanilla frosting to even the glisten of the drizzle. It all screamed a level of care and attention that Essek didn't exactly feel deserving of. All of this came from Caleb’s mind, he knew it. But what a wonderful, beautiful place that mind must have been. It made him yearn, impossibly, faithfully for something that he didn’t even have the words for. He hadn’t thought he was empty before, but now he felt downright cavernous.

"Well, what's got you in a mood? Your resting bitch face is worse than usual,” Lythir noted, taking a sip from his mimosa. Essek set down his own drink and gave him a look. “That’s not making it any better.”

“I don’t have a resting bitch face,” Essek noted very pleasantly as he flipped through the menu. The place was in the trendy upscale shopping district of Rosohna, promising gourmet modern-Xhorhassian cuisine served on shiny white plates and all deconstructed to the highest fashion. It was a bit pretentious, even for Essek. For example, why did all the drinks have to be in mason jars? But he hadn’t picked the place that had been Lythir. Though, Essek was sure he was going to have to be the one to foot the bill.

Lythir was looking back at him expectantly. He was an old acquaintance of Essek’s, who worked at one of the premier newspapers in Rosohna. There were plenty of reasons that Essek prefered other people’s company over Lythir. He tended to be dour, self-important, and pretty annoying in general. Essek didn’t like most people, and he especially disliked people who felt they had something to prove. One’s business should remain their own. But Lythir had always done good work for the cultural office, and always gave Essek the head’s up when something big was happening. So, at the very least, Essek owed him to hear him out no matter how absolutely obnoxious he was being.

“Well, you are a resting bitch so…”

“I didn’t invite me out to brunch, that was you. This is your fault, so you don’t get to complain about me. If you want someone to complain about me to, you should have invited your husband,” Essek said shortly. Essek would have preferred Lythir’s husband to be there anyways. He was a stylish, soft-spoken individual who was the head of a non-profit that helped place refugees in housing and set them up with job assistance. Essek actually enjoyed his conversation, as opposed to Lythir. But it was what it was.

“Oh get that stick out of your ass, Theylss. I invited you here for a reason...well, that and getting drunk.”

“I suppose my company is not enough,” Essek sighed dramatically.

“Oh, please. As if you don’t purposefully make yourself the least friendly person to interact with on a daily basis on purpose.”

“We both know that’s not true. You hold that distinct honor.”

“Oh shut up,” Lythir said, his expression pinching. “You always have to be so clever.”

“Are we ready to order?” the waitress asked, walking over to them slowly, as if the ground itself was triggered with traps like some ancient dungeon.

“I’ll have the Eggs Uthodurn,” Essek ordered, closing the menu and sliding it to her. He smiled his best smile at her, the one he often put on to comfort interns trembling at the sound of his boss’s heels...before they realized it was him they needed to watch for. She looked relieved.

“On a bagel or Uthodurnian muffin?”

“The muffin please.”

“Salad or home fries?”

“Salad.”

“And for you sir?” the waitress asked Lythir.

“Full Xhorhassian Breakfast,” Lythir said lazily, not even bothering to look at her. “Bagel and eggs scrambled.”

“Thank you,” Essek said to the waitress who smiled and hurried away. Essek turned his gaze back to Lythir, keeping his expression decorated as naturally as he could. "So what was it that you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Though in theory we have moved away from the 12 Den Form of Government, we all know that it still exists," Lythir said, taking out his little notebook. "Your little brother is about to find himself in some hot water if he doesn't cool his current investigation. I know he thinks he’s some hot shot ye old Taskhand, but we all know that it’s the case."

"Of course he is," Essek snorted as he rested his chin on his palm as he continued to look towards Lythir. "What did he do this time?"

"Investigated a high ranking member of Den Beltune for corruption," Lythir said, opening his notebook. "Bribery and intimidation, the usual. Oh but a dash of insider trading is the scary thing, isn’t it?"

"Verin can never leave well enough alone," Essek sighed deeply, taking a long drink from his cocktail. It was so unwieldy to drink a bellini from a mason jar, but he was making due regardless. "It's part of his nature."

"So are you going to stop him or what?"

"I'll do what needs to be done for all of our sakes."

"That's cold," Lythir noted with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

"Perhaps," Essek said tiredly. "Was that the only reason you dragged me out here in your quest to protect the realm, Lythir?

"That, and I love the pissed off look you give every time you have to say Verin's name."

"Truly, your company is a Luxon's blessing."

The rest of brunch was a lackluster affair…mostly due to Lythir's subpar company. Essek couldn’t even eat three bites without feeling queasy. No, it wasn’t that he was suddenly concerned about his brother. He couldn’t care less about that. It was more the feeling that all of this was going to become a migraine if he didn’t get out in front of it. Essek sighed as he climbed into his car, shooting a text to his mother. She was home, apparently going to the Temple to worship later. Lovely, but better to do this sooner rather than later. He gritted his teeth, pulled out from the curb, and drove towards the Theylss family home.

The townhouse was in the Firmaments, the most upscale district in Rosohna. When Essek pulled next to the curb, and was immediately met with a housekeeper before he could ring the doorbell. Essek gave him his jacket and was led into the living room where his denmother was waiting. The whole house itself was styled classically. Heavy curtains, arches, marble statues, Vermelock purple woods and wallpapers, luxurious tapestries and paintings of Theylss members since...well...since his mother had first put a name to her fame. She was laying back on the chaise lounge, with a mug of something in her hands.

“Am I interrupting something?” Essek asked dryly, noting his mother’s general state of undress. She was wearing a silk robe, and lingerie that was lacy and very revealing. He resisted the urge to turn around and stare at the wall. He was an adult, but still, even the slightest inclination of his mother’s sex life was enough to make him want to gouge his own eyes out with a spoon.

“Oh please, don’t be dramatic. It’s the morning,” Dierta Theylss said with a sigh as she sat up, looking oh so pleased with herself.

“It’s half-past twelve.”

“It’s morning somewhere, and I had a very good night, and I’m in my own house,” she said, taking the reserve of almond liqueur and pouring at least a double shot into her coffee. “I’m allowed to be dressed however I wish.

“I beg of you, don’t tell me how your night was. I really, really don’t want to know.”

“Essek, please, I thought when you became an adult we would be able to talk candidly about things. You hurt your mother’s feelings.”

It was just then that Dierta’s current husband walked down the stairs. It was hard to keep track...but Essek was sure this was the fourth one in his lifetime. A handsome half-orc man...who of course was younger than Essek technically though he was somewhere in his forties. Essek couldn’t remember his name. Garrall? Gurak? Something like that maybe? He gave Essek a slow, awkward wave before grabbing coffee and then booking it back upstairs to avoid the oncoming storm. Good, Essek thought. He might actually like this new stepfather of his...though he was pretty sure that they had been married for at least two years. Did that count? Oh, whatever. He at least wasn’t as dense as the last one who had always smelled of mothballs and couldn’t keep from blathering about his stocks in Whitestone residuum.

“I didn’t come here for a social visit, Mother,” Essek noted, taking the glass that was offered to him by the servant before sitting in the empty loveseat. He settled it down, not touching it. No use in getting too comfortable, after all, these conversations tended to be short and fraught with danger. He needed all his faculties working for this.

“Of that I’m perfectly aware, you don’t do social visits. I can only assume that you did something and you need your mother’s help to clean up your mess,” she said, taking a drink. She motioned and the servant raced to refresh her cup. She took another lazy sip, gazing at him from over the rim as she did. There was something lurking there that always put him on edge, but it was more prominent now.

“Not my mess,” Essek corrected, intertwining his fingers and resting them on his knee. “Verin’s mess. Verin’s mess that always ends up being my mess somehow.”

“You mean Verin’s little pet project? His corruption investigation?” Dierta asked, tracing the rim of her mug with a manicured finger. “Oh yes, I’ve heard about it.”

“And you haven’t done anything about it?” Essek asked, leaning back and crossing his legs. “What’s your plan then?”

“Whatever could I do to dissuade him? You, on the other hand, may have more luck than I did.”

“No,” Essek said angrily, the realization striking him quickly with the force of a hard slap. “No, this is not something you are going to pass off to me. I am only here out of respect to you, I’m not here to play your errand boy.”

“Essek, you and I both know that things go better when you just listen to me,” Dierta said, her face hardening and Essek could nearly see her assume the ancient, feared, and coveted role of denmother right there. You are my son, and you will abide by me is what she didn’t say. It was the threat that was inherent in her tone. She was his denmother, even though in theory they had long since abandoned the practice. In fact, she was still one of the most powerful people in Rosohna. As soon as she had dawned the role like a heavy mantle it was gone and replaced with something cloyingly sweet. “You are my favored son for a reason. Now, listen to your mother. I have a plan.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Essek said, standing up out of his seat. “You can just speak to Verin directly. I’m not playing this game of yours anymore, this is exactly the reason why I moved out of this godsforsaken house.”

“You know he doesn’t listen to me once he’s got an idea in his head.”

“He doesn’t listen to me either. In fact, he hates me so whatever plan you have concocted in that brain of yours isn’t going to work. This was obviously just a waste of my time,” Essek told her shortly, yanking his jacket from the coat hanger. The servant looked pissed, and Essek leveled a glare that had him scurrying backwards.

“Essek, tell me, what happened between you and Verin anyways?” she asked idly, as if it had nothing to do with her. Essek bristled even further if that was even possible under the circumstances, and felt his mouth twist further into a deep grimace.

“Can’t you tell?” Essek asked her with a sour grin. “It’s because I’m too much like you.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Dierta huffed impatiently, but Essek was already out the door and to his car. He slammed his door shut, punched in his brother’s number and sped off from the curb towards his house. Essek almost immediately hit both traffic and Verin’s voicemail. Almost at his wit’s end, he tapped the wheel impatiently.

“Verin,” Essek said shortly, glaring heatedly at his phone. “Don’t be an idiot. Be smarter than whatever you are up to, because it’s not just your ass on the line here and I will not help you.”

Essek cut the line and stared at the traffic ahead of him. He continued to sit there, stewing on his distaste for everything for a bit before he just got tired of that and his attention wandered. He cast a look towards his messenger bag...the one he had gotten into the habit of keeping in his car just in case. It was looking up at him judgmentally…. as if saying he was weak and sentimental. He didn't need to go to the bakery, to soak in its atmosphere like it was a warm bath at the end of a particularly stressful day. He could read his books and answer Messages at home. But nothing about driving back to his empty cold apartment seemed appealing at that moment.

He was a weak selfish creature, after all. And so he turned left...to the Xhorhaus Bakery.

The bakery itself was buzzing with the usual amount of activity, on account of it being the afternoon. There were two lines, one for the regular register and the displays of sweets. At the other, Fjord and Caduceus (as he had learned from his previous trips) were making crepes and waffle cones for children to place their ice-cream. In front of them, trays of toppings like fruits, square jellies, jewel-colored syrups and jams and whipped creams, different flavored tapioca balls, a rainbow of sprinkles, and homemade candies and crushed cookies. Essek got up to the register and noticed immediately that Caleb wasn't there (not to his disappointment, he was not disappointed, it was foolish to be so and the last thing that Essek was, was foolish). Veth was also nowhere to be seen. He was met with Jester who smiled happily at him, as if there were no one in the world she would rather see. It helped lessen the sting of definitely not disappointment greatly.

"Hi Essek!" Jester greeted, meeting his gaze before a grin curled over his lips. "Caleb's in the back right now."

"I didn't need to know that," Essek said with a sigh.

"Sure you didn't. But in the meantime we do have Widogast's Wall of Infamy," Jester said, pointing to the aforementioned sign. On it were recommendations of the different pastries and food available that day. Essek swept them with his gaze, memorizing the neat scrawl that had to be Caleb's handwriting. It was beautiful, well practiced, the show of an educated hand. Just another thing to obsess about that he didn’t need to, Essek thought annoyed at his own obviousness.

"I'll do one tall black coffee and...uh...whatever the daily triple threat is."

"Oh my gosh, cupcakes!" Jester said excitedly, tail moving back and forth with her eagerness as Jester accepted Essek's payment. "They definitely won't let you down, Essek. You are gonna love them. I'll have Beau bring everything over in a sec!"

Essek sat himself in his usual corner seat and began setting himself up for work. His tome-pad angled up, and his books for after settled in a neat pile. Leylas Kryn got about twenty or more serious business requests every day, and Essek knew from experience which ones were worth going over with her and which ones weren't. He still attempted to be kind and courteous however, besides, who knew if certain products would take off? Always good to leave the door open for later. Having more ammo to arm himself with was never a bad thing.

"Here you go, black coffee and daily triple threat," Beau said, settling down the tray with a thump that made Essek jump. She began to speak with all the enthusiasm of a secretary at the Department of Magical Artifacts. "Our specials today are our Wildemount Drinks cupcake collection. First cupcake on the left is a Queen's Water cupcake, a honey cake with a guava filling and a tamarind-vanilla buttercream. Second cupcake is a Radler cupcake, a vanilla-beer cake filled with a lemon curd and topped with a tangy lemon cream cheese frosting. Final cupcake is a Yunfaalyu--yes I know I totally butchered the pronunciation--decadent chocolate cake with a current jam filling, vanilla frosting and a plum liqueur drizzle. Each cupcake is enchanted to give you a different sensation."

"I probably can't eat all of these by myself," Essek said guiltily. "I didn't realize they were so big."

"You look like you could use it," Beauregard noted, leaning against the table. Her muscles flexed with the effort."You're like a fucking stick."

"Why, thank you," Essek said sarcastically before giving her another look. "You don't strike me as the bakery type."

"I'm not, I'm a member of the Cobalt Soul," Beauregard said with a shrug, naming the international organization of monks. In the time of war they had been covert operatives and general badasses. Now they served as a peace-keeping and rebuilding operation for people in almost every country in Wildemount...though supposedly they were still general badasses. "Caleb's my friend, and this is my side gig. Self-defense instructor and part time librarian doesn't pay a whole lot."

"I see," Essek said, blinking. He didn’t really understand why she would be under-selling her job, but, it wasn’t his business and he didn’t care enough to dig into the specifics. Information was important, but too much was a burden to saddle yourself with.

"Plus, you need at least two strong people to carry wedding cakes. Me and Yasha tend to do that," she explained, flexing her arm to show off her bicep.

"I'm sorry, wedding cakes?" Essek asked curiously.

"Oh, right, I keep forgetting it's a Dwendalian thing. During the reception of a wedding in the Empire, you have a cake. Not just any cake, it can be...like...up to six tiers or more," Beau aided her visual by miming stacking. "And they are decorated, with sugar flowers and other things. I mean, it's all gross and sentimental but they are beautiful. You cut the cake together at the wedding, feed each other and the party starts. Asshole couples might smush it in each other's faces but, like, that's real old fashioned and also a horrible tradition."

"That's...surprisingly tender," Essek said, unable to visualize what something like that would feel like. The idea of feeding another person, it had to be intimate. It was a way that food became another vehicle for affection. It was surprising to hear about such a tradition from the Empire, the salt-of-the-Earth and cold-barbed-wire fence country that it was. Then again, people were people no matter where they came from. Being in love was a universal thing...not that Essek had any experience with it. "It's lovely."

"Yeah, well, don't get your panties in a knot about it. We don't do many wedding cakes here, but Empire immigrants like us, and those people marrying immigrants, are starting to come in asking for them. Caleb and Veth are in a consultation about a wedding cake now for a couple. Why? Are you in the market for one?" Beauregard asked, her expression searching.

"Oh no, no," Essek said with a desperate shake of his head. He didn't know how much of this conversation would get back to Caleb, and that idea was mortifying enough. He didn’t need Caleb also thinking he wasn’t available...not that it mattered at all. "Definitely not."

"Well then," Beauregard said shortly. "Good luck with the cupcakes."

She trudged off, leaving Essek to it. It was in that moment, sitting there in the busy bakery bereft of an audience to perform for, that he finally felt himself decompress. He almost had to check his ears to make sure steam wasn't coming out. Life didn't look so bad, with a cup of coffee and cupcakes sitting in front of you. There was something about the visceral comfort of it all that made the knot in his chest that was forever tight just loosen just a little. Essek took a sip of his coffee before reaching to pick which cupcake he was willing to try first. It was all so tempting, even though Essek still swore to himself that he didn’t like sweets.

Essek cut the first cupcake, the Queen’s Water cupcake so he could get a bite of frosting, filling, and cake all at once. The cake itself was tender and almost melted in the mouth was delicately sweet with the honey and warmed with spices, countered by the intensely flavorful guava, and the sour-sweet punch of the tamarind-vanilla frosting. Immediately as he tasted it… he was enveloped by the flavor dancing on his tongue, with his next breath in he was filled with the sensation of warm sand against his fingertips, a cool breeze and the glittering sapphire waves of the Menagerie Coast around his knees. As soon as it was there, it dissolved like seafoam the moment he finished the bite.

Essek did not hesitate before his next bite, the Yunfaalyu cupcake. Yunfaalyu was a popular traditional Xhorhassian drink, something Essek had grown up drinking on special occasions and on the holidays. It was traditionally a plum liquor served frigid-cold over ice and topped with currants. Every family had their own method of serving it and most families were a little obsessed with it. Plums were considered the Queen of Fruit in Xhorhas for a reason, and the drink was considered a delicacy by all rights. Essek had enjoyed plums soaked in it, eaten Yunfaalyu poured over shaved ice on hot summer nights. He had never had it in a baked good before, and was now wondering how he had spent his whole life without it. Chocolate was a relatively new import from Tal’dorei, fashionable as drinks served as powder stirred in hot milk with spices. In a cupcake it was a revelation in the way it melted sweet and bitter all at the same time. The currant jam was tart, smoothed over by the creaminess of the frosting. It was the plum liquor that transported him this time. The tingling on his tongue when he breathed, he was surprised to see his breath not swirl white. A cold Xhorhassian winter night, a scarf wrapped around his neck, snowflakes brushing his cheeks and his eyelashes, and the warmth of a crackling hearth. Again it was gone within the space of a breath.

The final cupcake, the Radler, awaited for him. He took his next bite, now expecting it to be bone-shatteringly good. The cake was so flavorful, light and yet had a deep earthy quality. It was counteracted by the sharp-sour-sweet lemon curd, and the tang of the cream-cheese frosting. It’s sharpness eased into something sweet and citrus and almost addictive as he couldn’t stop himself from taking another bite. Immediately, he realized that this was the taste of summer, like long grasses and dandelions brushing his fingertips and the hum of insects in his ears. He could feel the heat of the sun, something so unfamiliar and yet unmistakable, like golden comfort being settled upon his shoulders. It was like stepping into a warm bath...and yet more ethereal and it somehow soaked in deeper. It reached right down to the core of his heart, where almost nothing penetrated. This was a gift to someone who could never feel the sun as anything but pain.

He sniffed and bit back something that felt suspiciously like tears but definitely were not. But whatever scratchy feeling he had at the back of his throat had nothing to do with stupid, soft, gentle wizards who used their magic to let some poor drow fool feel sunlight. Essek was broken out of his revelry by the feeling of the cat, Frumpkin jumping up into his lap.

“Oh!” Essek greeted, looking at the wide yellow eyes that looked up at him curiously. For a moment he could have sworn they flashed blue, but then they settled back into a warm gentle yellow. Essek tentatively placed his fingers under Frumpkin’s chin, and watched as Frumpkin actively leaned into Essek’s scratching. His fur was soft to the touch, unlike most animals he had pet before. His purring caught him off guard, because he had certainly read of cats purring he hadn’t realized you could feel it. It was a delightful little sensation as Frumpkin settled on his lap for a nap. Essek probably should have been more concerned about the state of his pants...cat fur would probably show up on them. But he didn’t find that he cared.

Essek sat for a bit, finished the Radler cupcake and his coffee. He thought about ordering another coffee, but as soon as he did he noticed that Caleb had appeared from the back and didn’t think he was strong enough to speak to him. Just tasting what he had created was enough for his poor heart for one day. Caleb looked at the person ordering warmly, welcoming, and it made his heart fluttered in his chest. That was enough to make clear to Essek that he had definitely made the correct decision.

You will just have to continue to be my private daydream. My sweet and soft when everything is terrible. The shot straight to my heart, my never-ever-might-have-been. And I'll just have to be content with my lot, that I've known just the tiniest sliver of your heart that you've served to me on a silver platter. Essek thought idly as he tapped the next image on his tome-pad. No use in being greedy. This is just enough to make me not so miserable as I was two hours ago.

"Here, something you might like," Caleb's voice startled Essek out of his daydreams immediately. Essek looked to see Caleb settling a cup of coffee of some sort in front of him, having appeared out of the haze of Essek’s thoughts and back into Essek’s reality.

"I didn't order anything," Essek said, voice devoid of any normal emotion and instead sounding like he was slowly being tortured for information somewhere in an Empire bunker like in one of the old movies.

"It's on the house," Caleb said as Essek reached for his wallet. The cat in his lap perked up, delicately maneuvered across the table ladened with the fruits of Caleb’s labor, before settling on Caleb's lap. It left Essek feeling strangely bereft and cold. Caleb was holding his own cup, and looked a bit concerned. "Were they not to your liking?"

Caleb motioned to the two partially eaten cupcakes remaining. Only the Radler, the sunshine cupcake, had been completely devoured.

"Oh, no! No," Essek denied quickly. "They were all delicious. It's just...one was quite enough to fill me up."

In actuality he probably should have eaten more. He hadn't eaten breakfast, and taken maybe three bites of his brunch. It was strange though, where most food settled in his stomach like lead...it was different here. Everything he ate here had an intensity of flavor that Essek wasn't used to. It had to be the magic, but...he didn't really care. More than anything, he wanted to let the taste of that last bite of that Radler cupcake linger as long as possible.

"If I must confide...the Radler is my personal favorite from that batch of recipes," Caleb said, sounding relieved while sipping out of his own cup. Essek looked at the mug Caleb had placed in front of him. Noticing his look, Caleb motioned towards it more firmly. “I hope you enjoy that.”

Essek took it and took a sip. It was a flat white, the strong taste of the espresso and the smooth mouthfeel of the milk. There wasn’t any sugar in the cup...after all the sweets Essek doubted he would be able to take that. He sighed deeply, fingers curled around the mug itself as the warm radiated into his fingertips. Almost immediately Essek realized what he was doing and forced himself back into his own mind. Caleb was looking at him expectantly.

“Tell me something,” Essek said, feeling rather brave in spite of himself. It wasn’t a smooth segway but at least he was talking in an even and normal tone. “When you bake the magic in...how do you compensate for the components? I mean...I hope you aren’t putting fleece into your cupcakes.”

“Ah, you so caught the major image,” Caleb said, sounding delighted.

“I’m sorry, is that a trade secret?”

“Oh no, no. I’m just not used to people so interested in the how, they are more interested in the results,” Caleb said, waving his hand as if to dismiss his worries. “We draw the essence of the spell out and soak it into the water we use to mix each batter.”

“Truly...it’s fascinating how you are utilizing magic for different purposes,” Essek noted, settling his hand on his notebook. “How did you come to this conclusion, this bakery, if you don’t mind me asking? You are a very talented wizard, and this is a rather...well unorthodox profession for a wizard.”

Caleb paused for a moment, considering the question as he scratched under Frumpkin’s chin. The cat meowed lazily, caught in the middle of a pur. Caleb smiled at it, before picking up his cup once again.

“When we all first came here...things were difficult,” Caleb explained, looking into his cup. Today his hair was back in a loose low ponytail, that drew Essek’s eyes to the nap of his neck. Was there no part of him that wasn’t ridiculously attractive? “We were all just scraping by. If you can believe it, we all met in an inn on the way to the border and we just decided to stick it out together. Some of us...weren’t lucky enough to make it. When we got here, things were hard but better. Back then, though I loved magic it reminded me of a lot of terrible things in my life, not to get too personal about it. Veth asked me to think of something I loved that I could do. And I could only think about magic, finding a way to do magic in a way that would make me and everyone I had come to care about happy. My mother had always loved cooking and baking, and doing so reminded me of her. So, I just thought one day, to the Nine Hells with it. Combine them both and see what I get. I’ve been so lucky in a lot of ways, but the fact it all worked out is at the top of the list.”

“We are lucky to have you,” Essek said, hoping that sentiment didn’t sound too contrived.

“I’m not sure what the neighbors thought of us at first,” Caleb chuckled, deep from his belly, and the sound nearly sent a flush to the tips of his ears. Of course Essek had watched Empire programming once in a while. His mother thought television was gauche at the best of times, but Essek had found ways to sneak entertainment out from under her. Say what you would about the Empire, their television at least was far more entertaining then the how-many-different-channels-do-you-need-to-praise-the-Luxon slop you got in the Dynasty. He had read some interesting articles about how it was all a bread-and-circuses strategy by the Empire to lull their citizens into complacency, which was all fine and good and evil, but with hunky human men daring to brave the unknown in scripted series about adventurers? It went down easy and made very good entertainment. The voices of those old fashioned stars had always been deep timber that Essek guessed was natural to humans. He hadn’t realized how attractive it could be...until this particular human male was sitting in front of him.

“I think you’ll find that a lot of people’s lives have improved with you here,” Essek said, settling his mug down primly and with his best aristocratic sniff. “I think you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Ja, I just might,” Caleb said, raising the mug to his mouth. His blue eyes sparkled mirthfully, like the dream of that summer day baked into a single cupcake.

---------

“Stop being evil for like, ten minutes and seriously consider the proposal,” Professor Waccoh demanded of him. Essek looked up from his phone to look at her and met her glare.

“I did consider it. It was stupid and so I stopped considering it,” Essek said, completely deadpanned. “If that’s being evil, then consider me the evilest man alive.”

“Kryn wanted something to show the majesty of our nation! Our technological advances are something we should be proud of. If you showed approval she'd consider it.”

“Nothing about giant machines that move through the streets makes any sense.”

“They would have purpose and make sense, you are just thinking too small.”

“I am not helping you bring that in front of Leylas Kryn. You go ahead, but it does not have my stamp of approval,” Essek told her.

"Cheapskate," Professor Waccoh accused.

"Bite me,” Essek said as pleasant as could be.

“I wouldn’t want to poison myself.”

“They are ready in there,” the secretary said, poking her head out of the meeting room. Essek put on his professional face and then walked through the door.

The discussion at hand was the 10th Anniversary of Peace, the date that marked the beginning of what people were calling the golden age of Xhorhas. It was rather pretentious if Essek thought about it, but it wasn’t his job to judge. Really, it was his job to be there and take down notes and to know what his boss liked or didn’t like based on her subtle facial expressions. Essek had always been good at that, having been trained from the days in Den Theylss with his mother breathing down his neck to always know what it took to be on someone’s good side. By the end of the meeting, Essek had whittled the list of suggestions down to three before Leylas Kryn adjourned the meeting for a break.

Essek stood by the juice machine, deciding what healthy-concoction-monstrosity he wanted to put into the temple of his body as Quana Kryn saddled up next to him, taking a sip from her own cup. Golden eyes searched his face before a smile pulled at her mouth. Quana Kryn had always been the more approachable of the two, but it didn’t make her any less intimidating as she nearly towered over Essek. Today she wore suspenders with her suit, and certainly enough of the office staff had swooned over it to make someone force her to put on a jacket. Leylas could be considerate like that.

"Tell me, what did you think of Waccoh's little idea there?" Quana asked congenially. It startled Essek, only because they didn’t really talk too often. Obviously he worked closely with Leylas and he was often the butt of passing jokes, but Quana just drifted in and out of his purview the way most people did. There was obviously something she wanted, and he would just have to figure out what it was on the fly.

"The good professor has amazing ideas, but unfortunately the follow through is a bit lacking," Essek said simply.

"Cheeky," Quana scoffed, before pinching the bridge of her nose. She took in a deep steadying breath. "I'm not getting enough sleep. This Vow Renewal is driving me crazy."

"Ah, well, that's the price of love I suppose," Essek said, sipping his green juice and trying not to cringe. It tasted like barley and cucumbers, but not in a pleasant way. There was something sharp and metallic in the back of his throat making it difficult to swallow.

"I, of course, love my wife more than anything. And of course, Vow Renewals are how we show that in the Temple. But if I have to talk to another person about the flowers or what dress Leylas will be wearing, I will dust off my sword," Quana sighed, leaning against the wall in a way that was so practiced and easy that Essek was jealous. "It makes it all the worse that it’s going to be televised. I don’t know what we are going to do for the reception. Tell me, Essek...I’m just realizing this, that I haven’t the slightest clue about you. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t,” Essek said.

“A boyfriend? Partner?”

“No, I have no significant other,” Essek said before casting a suspicious eye towards her. “Why?”

“I was just wondering if you had any ideas. I know that’s not what you do, but I know that’s what you do.”

Essek thought for a moment, before throwing his cup away. The contents splattered on the trash bag as he did so with little regard.

“Have you heard about wedding cakes?” Essek asked curiously.

“No, what is that?”

“An Empire tradition that’s becoming popular amongst the people,” Essek explained, pulling out his tome-pad as he searched up a familiar name. “I figure if the strength of our nation is how we actively welcome people into our country, this might be a good opportunity to demonstrate that.”

“And I suppose you have a recommendation for me to pass to the Misses?”

“Always,” Essek said with a smile.

#critical role #critical role fanfic #shadowgast #essek theylss #caleb widogast

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that-yandere-life · 5 years

Note

4&5 with Diego Hargreeves and Peter b Parker please(separate tho)

Prompt #4: “I know you better than you know yourself.”

Prompt #5: “I’m blinded by your love, and its blindness I’d never want to cure.”

Diego-

After your last blow out fight you had been avoiding Diego, he always got a little hot headed when it came to you. This time it was because he had threatened one of your co-workers for getting too close to you. It almost cost you your job and you couldn’t have that loss of income or you would lose your apartment. Something that he thought was okay because you could just rely on him for everything. However that wasn’t your style, you would get too bored if you didn’t have something to do on a daily basis.

Putting some water on to boil for some tea you heard a knock on your door causing you to roll your eyes. There was only one person it could be, and to be honest you were surprised he even knocked. Most of the time he just let himself in, whether it be the door or by breaking in a window. Sighing softly you walked over and opened it seeing your boyfriend standing there with your favorite flowers, wine, and candy in his hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me. I just don’t want to lose you.”He admitted sheepishly.

“You won’t lose me, it’s only you that I love. I thought you would know that by now.”You replied crossing your arms across your chest not letting him off that easy. Although you could feel your resolve softening at his attempt to apologize. Taking the flowers from him sniffing them you couldn’t help but break into a smile. “You do know me extremely well.”You chuckled moving aside so he could come in.

“I know you better than you know yourself.”Diego said with pride in his tone. “But I do love you so much, and I know you love me. I shouldn’t have doubted it for a second, but I guess a part of me worries you will find someone with less problems than I have. I don’t think at this point I could let you go.”He frowned wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you into him.

“I’m not going anywhere, I have no interest in anyone but you. I don’t even see anyone but you Diego. Rest assured that you are the only one for me.”You replied feeling slightly guilty you had been mad, not even considering he might have insecurities after what his family life had been like. Not really getting the love he truly deserved from his siblings or his father, and his mother was no longer with the living he had told you.

“I am blinded by your love, and it’s a blindness I never want to cure.”Diego said leaning down kissing your lips deeply.

“That was a little cheesy baby.”You giggled shaking your head before pulling him in for another kiss. “But I love it, it makes me know you are head over heels for me. Because there is no way you would dare say that to someone else.”

“Hell no, and if you say anything to anyone I will deny it… for a good ten minutes anyway.” Diego laughed as he walked with you into the living room. The kettle now screaming for attention in the kitchen, threatening to boil over. “Uh baby girl, I think you forgot something!”

“MY TEA!”You screamed running to take it off, leaving Diego shaking his head unable to believe he was lucky enough that you loved him back. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you, besides leave you that was the one thing he couldn’t do.

Peter B.-

The day you had was incredibly horrible, from the moment you woke up until you got home from work. First you ripped a hole in your favorite pants as you were putting them on, then you spilled coffee all over yourself in the car making a huge mess. Not to mention you were reprimanded by your boss for being late after stopping to clean up said mess. Then nothing wanted to work right so you didn’t get much done at all. Heading home you texted Peter hoping that he would be home as you needed some loving.

Peter could instantly tell by your text that something was wrong, he would bet his Spider-Man costume on it. So he started getting things together to make you feel better, because you deserved it. Ordering your favorite pizza, getting the wine out of the fridge that you both had been saving for a rainy day such as this. Making the bed with fresh sheets, putting on your favorite television show getting it all ready to go. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do to see you smile, he loved you so much it hurt.

Hearing the keys in the lock, he headed over to greet you with a warm hug and kiss. Seeing the dejected look on your face he realized it was much worse than he imagined. “Hi sweetie.”He frowned kissing your forehead pulling you into his chest. Hearing you sniffle against him he kept you in the embrace until you decided to pull away. Walking further into the small apartment you shared, you saw what he had done for you, and tears threatened to fall.

“Babe, what’s all this?”You asked your heart swelling at the sweetness he was exhibiting. “You did this for me?”You added a small smile growing on your face.

“Of course Sweetheart! It sounded like you needed a break from today, and so I wanted to provide it from you. No responsibilities, no worrying, just being together eating junk food and watching television. Plus some wine, that always helps make things better.”Peter smirked giving you a sly wink, glad that you seemed to be happy with his work.

“You know me so well babe, you are truly a godsend to me.”You praised wrapping your arms around him leaning up to kiss him lovingly.

“I know you better than you know yourself lovey.”Peter replied returning the kiss, placing another one on your lips after you parted. “Now I didn’t know if you would want a bath or a hot shower so I decided to let you choose. Either way I can get you some fresh pj’s for when you get out.”

“My favorite shirt of yours? You know the one you don’t let me wear often.”You asked giving him the puppy dog eyes.

“You are lucky that I’m blinded by your love, and its blindness I’d never want to cure. Of course you can wear the shirt, now go clean up so we can relax and eat dinner together.”Peter chuckled swatting your bottom playfully as you headed towards the bathroom. Sighing to himself he knew he was the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side. At the end of the day, he would walk over hot coals if it made your life any easier.

[Thank you so much for your request! I truly hope that you like it, and that it was what you were wanting!

#yandere marvel #marvel yandere #yandere umbrella academy #umbrella academy yandere #diego hargreeves x reader #peter b parker x reader #yandere diego hargreeves #yandere peter b parker #500 follower blurb #Anonymous

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protezioni · 5 years

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Hi Kana, do you mind doing all of them for Rika? :3

Sure Emi!! Will be glad to answer all of this!! Dont mind at all! ♡♡ It was really fun to answer because the questions are all interesting :00

Akira, Shigure and Yuri were mentioned!! STAN TALENT, STAN ZETA, STAN MY FRIEND!! GO FOLLOW @zetacomic !!

🌲 What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

If it was a kindest thing she did for somone, I think it would be taking care of them--- so this mostly goes for her children figures. I think taking care of them and giving them the best she could is the kindest gesture she ever did. The kindest thing done to her is probably making her believe in herself because that's what she lacks a lot, and reassuring her that she has done enough or more than enough!

The worst thing she has done to someone would probably me murder, considering she takes someone's whole life away and not giving a chance for redemption.

🌳 What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

Her maternal instincts kick in. She tries to talk to them, but she will never force them to talk if they don't want to. She reminds them that she is there for them when they need someone to talk to, and she will definitely offer some hugs or little actions which may help. Those reactions are to her friends! To strangers, she usually tries to help in it by mere talking and trying to understand the person! She just never feels at ease when somebody is upset or in pain while she can't do anything IF the person isn't an enemy.

🌿 What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarassment?

She refuses that she actually craves for things sometimes. She would always say she doesn't want anything but this could be a lie. She doesn't find it embarrassing, but instead, she finds it troublesome for the person who she would have said this too.

🍃 Describe a regular day for your OC. What is their schedule (if they have one).

She gets up early in the morning to have a shower then makes breakfast! After breakfast and a small break, she often goes exercise or train. After, she'd cook lunch then do her paperwork. She has a lot of them, and she does get some work of the rest of the leaders so they could have more free time. Then she cooks again, eats and then do something for fun, usually little activities or the famiglia. Sometimes she may do paperwork or train though! She would shower again and then sleep after!

If it's a weekend, she's more free! She mostly loves going out to the mall or go for a stroll! Or bond other people! (They bond a lot already but still) She also loves practicing the piano/ukulele too. And every Sunday, she actually goes to church!

🍂 How does your OC think they will die? Does death scare them? Is there any reason for this?

She thinks she will die by a gun. She won't be surprised if she does. She only expects to die by the mafia hand. She would love to die by old age, but she can't see it happening. Death doesn't exactly scare her, but she does fear people dying around her. She fears more about how people may cope to her death, considering how close she is to several people.

🍁 What is your OC’s most traumatic experience? (If they don’t have just one traumatic experience either pick one or describe them all!)

I'll only pick one because a lot go on spoiler territory. The most traumatic experience that I can mention is when her father reminds her about all she could have been but failed to reach. That kind of words really affected her mentality, and that's why she grew up with that kind of thinking. She sometimes has dreams of it too, and his harsh words will stay there for a long time. She just knows it.

🍄 How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

She would cry her heart out at first. She would end up not being able to hide it. She might end up in sleepless nights and it is easy to tell because her eyebags will be evident. However, after the initial sadness, she would choose to remain strong for them and realize that they wouldn't want her to remain like that forever. She ends up going through the 5 stages of grief sometimes actually, so there's that too.

Usually, she'd confide in Hiyaro. He's her big brother who's been with her for the longest time, so he knows how to handle her very well. Also Akira, because she trusts him that much and she feels free to show him majority of her feelings. Yuri and Ayame because she considers these two very close to her, and she feels they can handle it well. Shigure too, but she'd feel bad if they end up in a crying session together. Basically, the longer she's known you and if you are very close, the more likely she would confide with you.

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

An interesting question! I never really thought about this before. But if she were evil, I'd want to take the concept of a boss who prioritizes power and money more than her own famiglia. Probably be a murderer of the rich, but would never consider so much factors unlike her canon self.

💐 How would your OC react to somebody telling them that they love them? (+ bonus give another characters/OC name!)

Well, if you're somebody she likes (Akira)- she would fluster red. She would be dying. She would wonder why they chose to love her. Like why her from all people? She wouldn't really know. She's going to end up frozen in place and take some time to process this. Probably mumble gibberish. To be honest, no matter who you are, she'll probably be silent for seconds to process it.

🌷 What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

She hates the fact that she has a lot of doubt in her own abilities. These thoughts can really make her do worse than usual if it comes to mind in the wrong time. She also makes herself think a person may be lying if they do compliment her sometimes. She normally believes the lie of she can't do better than several people. However, if there is one thing she loves about herself, it would be how people feel like they can depend on her! She loves that she finds herself as someone who can be good for advice!

🌹 Does your OC have any scars? How and when did they get them?

She does have scars! Majority of it came from a figure in the past, but some came from her father. They all came from childhood, and she is very concious about them. More will be revealed in the comic!

🥀 What is something your OC blames themself for and is it really their fault? Does it keep them up at night and is there any lingering trauma?

One is a MAJOR spoiler so I have to pick another one. There is one spoiler, but I can discuss bits of it since it's not too major, but it's something to do with Ko. It's his current position and how she feels like because she convinced him to join, he's not able to bring out his potential and failed to reach what he truly wanted. Since she feels like his mother figure, it feels like she is a mother who is pulling her child away from their dreams for their selfish needs. It really is not her fault because it was his decision at the end (and he knew the ups and downs). It used to keep her up at night, but not anymore! Also there is no lingering trauma for this one.

🌺 In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

The only thing that pushes her is when it is for the greater good + crimes that are too much to forgive in her eyes. But in a daily life basis, she would kick someone's ass or slap them across the face for any kind of harrassment to her or someone she is close to. For the first one I mentioned, yes. For the second one, no. But she will keep an eye on them. This doesn't affect her relationships in a negative way because she's in the mafia and well, it is normal. But sometimes, she does worry if she did the right thing. However with others, she usually earns respect when she does kill somebody. She would never kill for no reason, after all.

🌸 What would your OC do if they were given god-like powers or the ability to change anything about the world for a whole day?

She would definitely go for world peace. Having no crime or fights, and having everybody safe is something she would want. She wants the world to be a safer place, after all. Sad it's just for a day though.

🌼 Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

Seeing the people who are close to her dying because that's what she is trying to avoid most and if that happens, it just proves that her father was right about her being too weak. She wants to stop death in any way she can and she would prefer to die before anyone close to her does.

🌻 What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

She would tell her younger self that she will get to find people who will love her, so she still has to stay strong even if she feels like that's something which is impossible. What she needs now is that she should know that she has done enough and she makes the people around her proud and they are happy to have her around. She would cry if you say that all in one go, honestly.

#ask #rika #it was fun to do i like these questions

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iris-writes-things · 5 years

Text

Two Guys and a Baby: Day 8

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read up to 2 chapters ahead as a $1 Patreon patron!

“Actually, it’s more about something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Anthony said as he scratched behind his ear. A realization dawned on Ezra. His breath caught in his throat. This was it.

Or, Crowley pops a question.

Chapter 11 of 20 Ongoing 2073 words Romance/Humor

It was dark in the bookshop. Ezra’s best guess was that it was past midnight. The only light in the shop came from a flickering lamp post outside, even the lights behind the signs of the other shops in the street were out.

But nevertheless, he was down in his shop, alone, with Anthony, backed against the counter by the other man. He wasn’t sure how they got here, but couldn’t bring himself to care when he found one of Anthony’s hands on his hip, the fingers of his other hand digging into the back of his vest, clinging on for dear life, and Anthony’s lips firmly planted on his own.

They started slowly and gently, he was sure he remembered, but they were well past that now. Anthony pulled back and gasped, his face red from breathlessness and other things, but soon those lips were back at his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, and ventured vaguely downwards. The other hand, withdrawn from the back of Ezra’s vest, found purchase at his other hip, jerked him forward and—

He woke up.

A groan of frustration and disgust escaped him as he sat up. This hadn’t happened to him in, what, twenty-five years? He hated it now just as much as he hated it back then.

Light filtered through his drawn curtains and a quick glance at his alarm clock told him it was almost half past six in the morning. He sighed and decided it was probably for the best to just get up and start his day. With a cold shower.

The memory of his dream wouldn’t let him go.

Ezra rubbed through his eyes as he wrote his dream down in his journal, sitting at his desk in the small apartment over the shop. Onto the page and out of his mind, he always said. Really, he should probably be revising the first draft of his book, but on the other hand, perhaps if he wrote this first, he wouldn’t be haunted by Anthony’s lips anymore.

He wondered vaguely what it would feel like if, when it really happened. Would he be sure of himself? Experienced? Or would he perhaps be just as much of a nervous mess as Ezra? The idea was mildly reassuring, but with the way he looked, the way he moved, Ezra found this extremely unlikely.

The fact of the matter was that Crowley was a nervous mess. It was eleven in the morning by the time Crowley found himself pacing around on the pavement in front of the door to Ezra’s shop. Five past eleven… Ten past eleven...

It was ridiculous to the point that even Adam looked at Crowley weird. Crowley frowned. “Geez, no need to be judgy. You ask him out if you’re so good at it,” he murmured to the baby. “No, wait, never mind. If you asked out Ezra, of course he would say yes. Just look at you, you’re irresistible.”

An old lady looked at him in a way that oozed suspicion and Crowley snapped.

“What?! Never seen a nervous wreck before?! Oh, fuck it,” he said with a sigh, raised his hand to the door. A quick glance through the window had already told him that Ezra wasn’t downstairs, but a quick glance next to the door suggested to him that the man had never gotten a doorbell installed. And so, he resorted to knocking.

Ezra’s gaze snapped up from his journal when he heard shouting through the paper-thin walls of his building.

“What?! Never seen a nervous wreck before?!”

Anthony.

He looked back down at the notebook and found that he’d filled pages upon pages with his thoughts. Oh dear. Maybe this was worse than he thought. What time was it, even? He glanced at the clock. A quarter past eleven?! He was supposed to have opened the shop over an hour ago! Knocking sounded at the door as rushing feet stumbled down the creaking steps of the stairs. He was out of breath by the time he made it to the door and unlocked it, giving Anthony a nervous smile through the window.

“Sorry I took so long,” he stammered. “Lost track of time.”

Anthony took off his sunglasses and raised an eyebrow. “That’s unlike you… Are you alright? You look like you’re burning up.” Anthony raised a hand to lay on Ezra’s forehead, but Ezra ducked out of the way.

“N-no, I’m fine, thank you. Oh! Please, do come in,” he said as he moved aside for Anthony and Adam. He came so close. Almost as close as in his dream. Except he could smell him now. His shampoo, his cologne, the distinct lack of tobacco was new, so Ezra committed it to memory. It was different. A good different.

He smiled nervously as he stepped into the shop. All pearly white and dazzling bright, but what was he nervous for? Ezra heard him shouting so just now, but he’d missed the context. Perhaps, if he wasn’t so focused on his writing, he would have known.

“Speaking of which, are you alright?” Ezra asked. “I heard you shouting just now. What are you nervous about?” ‘I hope you weren’t nervous about coming here,’ Ezra added mentally.

“What? Pfsh, of course not. Why would I be nervous? No, no, it’s… something else.” Anthony’s eyes guiltily darted around in that way he always did when he thought of an excuse. Ezra had forgotten all about it, but he’d gotten well reacquainted with his eccentricities over the last week.

The last week, Ezra realized.

In seven days, Anthony’s boss would come back from her vacation and life would go back to normal. There would be no more Adam and no more excuses to ‘hang out’ with Anthony. Save for perhaps that one dinner at the Ritz, but they spoke of that many times in the past, and then it never came to fruition.

“Actually, it’s more about something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Anthony said as he scratched behind his ear.

A realization dawned on Ezra. His breath caught in his throat.

This was it.

All he had to do was ask this god damned question. All he had to do was speak, find out whether Ezra loved him back or not and start a new chapter of his life, with or without him. It was just a stupid question, but Crowley felt like he was having a heart attack instead.

He tried to keep his cool outwardly, at least, but the look in Ezra’s eyes and the reflection in his glasses told Crowley that his body was betraying him.

“I… Would you… I mean, if you’d be so inclined…” Crowley stammered.

Ezra stared up at him with a bright-eyed intensity that he’d rarely felt before. If anything, it made him more nervous. By now, he wasn't even sure he was breathing anymore. Every fibre in his body was screaming at him to abort.

"Help me write a letter of resignation?"

So he did.

Ezra tried not to scream in frustration. He really did, but he couldn't stop a small sound of dejection from escaping. Anthony was trying, he could tell, but his self-sabotaging ways were beginning to wear on Ezra's patience. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and decided to work with what he was given.

“You’re quitting your job? Why? How come?” Ezra asked as he took Anthony by his upper arms and sat him down in his usual seat. “Wait, hold that thought. I’ll make us each a hot cup of cocoa. That’ll calm you right down.” And with that, he hurried off to the kitchenette.

Crowley was grateful by the time Ezra returned with their cocoa. He took the steaming mug into his cold hands and took a careful sip. Adam, from his perch on the floor, looked up at the sweet concoction, stood up and pulled on Crowley’s jacket. “Adam, no, it’s too hot for you. I’ll save the last bit for you when it cools down, okay?” And as if he somehow understood, Adam waddled off into the shop. “Thank you. It’s great.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Ezra smiled, leaning on the display table opposite the window seat. “So, what’s this about resigning?”

Crowley looked down, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. His fingernails tapped nervously against the still hot ceramic mug — it had a quirky book quote on it that Crowley didn’t recognize, as most of Ezra’s mugs did — and he sighed in exasperation. “It’s just…” He paused, trying to arrange the words in his head in a way that would make sense when he spoke them aloud. He sighed again for good measure. “They were right, angel, everyone said I would regret getting that job and I did. And it’s not so much that I’m bored out of my mind half the time. No, it’s because I’m dealing with the most insufferable people on the planet on a daily basis. It’s that every time I set foot in the studio, Hastings and Liggett have new insults to throw at my head, not to mention Dygon in accounting. It’s demeaning and I hate it.” He bit on his lip, eyes darting around the shop, but always careful to avoid Ezra. “It’s just, being out of the office and hanging out with you, it reminded me how good life was when I didn’t dedicate it to people I hated, but to people I loved instead.”

Ezra took a slow, shuddering breath. The look with which Anthony gazed up at him did things to his heart even he couldn’t begin to describe, much less the Useless Lesbian™ narrator of this story. Nevertheless, words left his mouth.

“Well... I think that’s a very healthy decision of you to make,” he said softly. A nervous chuckle escaped him. “Though I rather hope I belong to the latter category.”

He looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. He didn’t dare look at Anthony, so he didn’t notice how his face settled into a deep frown.

“Are you kidding me?” Crowley very nearly snapped. “Ezra…”

Ezra’s gaze nervously wandered back to Crowley.

‘You’re the love of my life,’ he really wanted to say.

“You’re my best friend. Of course you do,” he said instead, taking Ezra’s free hand in his and squeezing reassuringly.

“Well, that’s alright then,” Ezra said, visibly relaxing. “So, this letter of resignation, what do you want it to say?”

“Something like, ‘everyone in this office can go fuck themselves, except for you Lucy, you were the only tolerable part of this job.’ Except still sounding somewhat professional.”

A mischievous glint appeared in Ezra’s eyes that Crowley hadn’t seen in years. “I think that can be arranged.”

XX March, 20XX

Dear Sir,

Hereby I submit my resignation from my position as assistant to miss Lucy Ferguson.

I sincerely thank you for employing me over the last few years, but due to circumstances in the office I can no longer fulfill my tasks with the same optimism with which I used to, and have decided to focus on my craft instead.

My final day of employment will be two weeks from now.

Unfortunately, due to pre-established activities by miss Ferguson herself, I will not be available to assist during this time of transition.

In case of an absolute emergency, miss Ferguson will know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Anthony James Crowley

“Hmmm…” Ezra hummed as he peered at his beige computer screen. It was eight PM. The two of them had settled in the dark back room of Ezra’s shop where Adam slept on the worn velvet sofa. “It’s not quite where I want it to be, but could you take a look anyway?”

The office chair creaked under the weight of Anthony’s hands on the backrest as the man leaned over Ezra and peered over his shoulder. He smiled like a snake.

“Ezra, you beautiful bastard, I could kiss you right now!” he said in his enthusiasm. He blushed and looked away.

‘Then why don’t you?’ Ezra wanted to ask.

“Well then, let’s print it out, then you can deliver it on Monday,” he said instead. Perforated paper was fed through a beige printer.

“Could you come with me?” Anthony asked. Eyes pleading. “I don’t trust myself not to chicken out halfway through.”

Ezra saw more truth in his eyes than the man would ever admit.

“Of course,” he smiled.

#EN #fanfic #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Human AU

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freddies-yellow-jacket · 6 years

Text

The Killer Queen - {Roger Taylor X Reader - PART 1}

[PART 1] [PART 2]

Warning[s]: Vulgar Language [This story will contain smut in the future so it’s 18+]

Word Count: 3,9K

Summary: Roger meets a girl on a very ordinary day but she’s far from ordinary. In his eyes, she’s a cocky yet fun and innocent girl but there is something mysterious to her. Curious about that, he asks her to meet again. Little does Roger know just how deep and dark her secret is or that she is working hard to distance herself from her true self. After all, she’s a Killer Queen and if he did her wrong, her boys would come for him whether she liked it or not. [Mafia Princess!Y/N x Roger Taylor] !!!!! [Also, I decided to make a fictional father for you because not everybody has a father and I hate writing Y/F/N all the time] !!!!!

Author’s Note: I am so excited about this! I hope you are too. If you wish to be tagged, let me know! :)

Your P.O.V.

It happened again. No matter how many fucking times I told them no, they didn’t listen. They refused to let me go and live my own life. If I tried to be alone for one weekend, I’d find security guards after me. If I tried to tell them I wanted to leave, they would find ways to scare me so I’d stay. My life was going in a circle and I felt like that circle would dig my own grave.

“You’re my daughter, Y/N. This is in your blood. You are born into this life”, my father told me the same exact words I had heard on a daily basis since I found out the truth about my family. The truth about me. The truth about my father’s money, his hate for the law and police, the days and weeks he was gone when I needed him the most, everything! Years of wonders were getting their answers which I wasn’t fond of at all, not the slightest bit!

On that day many years ago, I was 17 turning 18. My father explained to me how I was going to inherit his hard earned privileges. He told me how his business wasn’t a security business. He wasn’t a legally successful entrepreneur who had worked his ass off for years for his family. No.

My father was a mafia boss and his men were the most wanted men in all of Europe. He was the King of crime in England and his businesses had reached other countries. My father pulled the strings of the underworld how he wanted things to go as if the world was his playground. His ways sickened me yet he wished for me to marry someone on the inside to remain in this worthy position even after his passing, which I hoped was soon. Worthy my ass!

I was a mafia princess!

I had no way out of it. If I left, I’d be all on my own. So, ever since I was 18, I had seen the ugly side of the world and my roots were deep in it. Now I was in my early 20s and my father has made sure I had all the skills any mafia woman would need.

He had taught me to get out of locked situations,

how to steal,

how to stay silent if I was kidnapped,

how to handle my weapons,

how to kill - but god, I would never sink down on that level!

It made sense to me now why he wanted me to learn self-defence as a kid. It all made sense! I was stuck to this horrible reality and every day I searched for a way out of it. This day was not unlike any other.

July 1973

For some odd reason, the sun decided to shine all day which made it hot as fuck. It was July afternoon and I was driving around the countryside outside of London. I was dressed in a red blouse that was tucked into a white skirt, my boots were black but rather classy and I had red lips and a soft brown eyeshadow look on. The scent of cherries was radiating into all directions around me. My father got me a cherry perfume from Paris once that I liked, although I hated my father’s guts. I was sitting in my red 1966 Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu, that was still good although it had a few years of age and a history of small accidents. I was cruising the bumpy road with a speed way too high according to the limits but I couldn’t care less. As I drove and listened to my music, I forgot the world. The green fields and few trees were all around me which was perfect. This is why I loved the countryside! I felt like a free woman.

Elton John’s Rocket Man was playing and I absentmindedly slowed down my speed. With my windows rolled down, I felt the wind in my hair and the smell of manure stinging my nose. The heat was definitely not helping at all but I could handle it. I had smelled the stank of death a few times which was way worse. Then I saw it. On an otherwise quiet Saturday, I saw a simple van on the side of the road and a couple people outside it, obviously arguing about something. They were probably having car issues. It caught my interest so I slowed down and drove towards them, honking a few times before eventually parking my car behind theirs. That’s when I noticed four heads turned to me.

Four men, to be exact. One with curls for others to share and he was tall as heck, one standing in the back a little bit with a funky jacket on, another dark-haired guy who had hair longer than many people I knew of and a pretty dirty blonde. They all looked kind of familiar but I couldn’t put my mind on it. It didn’t matter, obviously their car was giving them issues.

“Do you need help?” I asked them kindly, squinting my eyes at the sun that was shining directly into my eyes. My question made them look at each other strangely and the blonde sighed deeply as if I did something wrong. He seemed to be the most upset about the car so I assumed it was his.

"You think you could help us, darling?” One of them asked me. It was the one with the funky jacket that glittered against the sunlight.

“Why not? It’s not the first time I’ve gotten my hands dirty” I wondered and I realized I was being quite straightforward. They all seemed a bit surprised and silence fell over. A smirk crawled on my face because I found them a bit adorable really. I was simply playing around! I bet they didn’t expect a girl to come and help them but I was damn convinced I’d prove myself helpful. “I’m Y/N”, I introduced myself to break the silence. It sparked some kind of a conversation going and they seemed to appreciate it. To put the awkward tension behind us.

“I’m Freddie and curly over there is Brian, that’s John but we all call him Deacy and the drama queen over here is Roger”, Freddie was kind enough to introduce me to them. As I nodded politely and tried to remember their names, I realized why they were so familiar. I had heard their names before! They were in a band.

“I’m not a drama queen, Fred”, Roger snapped back and I noticed that he seemed pissed.

“I don’t know, drama queen sounds nice to me”, I shrugged playfully, feeling rather confident around them. What I said made the rest of them chuckle but Roger turned to look at me like I had challenged him to battle. His blue eyes were full of anger at first but then they softened as if he was too tired to focus his anger on me. He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Brian put his arm around Roger’s shoulder and they walked away from the conversation, allowing Freddie and Deacy to chat with me.

My mind went straight back to the car as Roger was further away. Something about him was strange, but surely in a good way. Or was it just the fact he was blonde? It didn’t matter. Once I was done with this minor inconvenience, I’d never see them again. “What’s wrong with the car? I’m sure I can do something”, I questioned them as we walked towards the car. Deacy stepped back and eyed the back tire, which already gave me an answer. It was deflated!

“I’m sure it speaks for itself”, Deacy sighed as we all just stared at it. I knew it wasn’t a big deal. I had changed a tire a thousand times!

“Where’s your spare?” I asked whoever was ready to answer.

“It’s in the back but we have no tools. Someone thought we wouldn’t need them at all so we could fit more equipment in there”, Freddie let me know and I suspected he directed that someone to someone in spite. I enjoyed the spite in his voice. Obviously, this situation was annoying them all. It made me happy. I could finally do something!

“I have the tools you need. Let me get them and you can get the spare”, I promised them and already walked back towards my car. I heard nothing as I left and soon I was back at my car. I grabbed my car jack and lug wrench. As I was closing the trunk, I saw someone beside me and I startled. My heart jumped to my throat and if it wasn’t for the tools in my hands, I would’ve probably been ready to attack It was Roger! “Fuck- can you float or are you just naturally good at walking up on people?” I breathed out which actually made him laugh.

“The first one sounds better”, Roger admitted with a smile. Someone was quite happy although just a minute ago he was as grumpy as a toddler. Perhaps Brian said something to him? Damn, I wanted to know what it was but I had to remember that curiosity killed the cat.

Roger was kind of cocky but I found it intriguing. He eyed me like I was some eye-candy but he hadn’t made any comments yet. Usually, it was easy for me to read people. I could tell what they were thinking by just glancing at them but Roger wasn’t like the rest. Although we just met, I was slightly nervous around him but my nerves didn’t hold my witty tongue back.

“You don’t look like the type of girl who has tools in her car”, Roger admitted after a brief silence. I wasn’t surprised yet he made me giggle. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them. I was used to presenting myself as a classy woman with strangers. My father taught me that if I made people underestimate me, my true skills would shock them more and therefore they would be more afraid and my chances of victory would be higher. I suppose my skirt and sweet perfume didn’t help me look less like a good girl.

“I hope it’s not a bad thing”, I breathed out after a fit of giggles.

Roger smiled and I swear to god he looked like an angel. He was probably the heartbreaker in the band, the one girls drooled after without caring about their hearts. “No, not at all. I like surprises”, He let me know shamelessly. There it was! I could smell the flirtation in the air. Perhaps he was like this with all girls?

“I’m full of surprises”, I promised him and for a moment, my true self flashed before my eyes. It made my smile fade and I felt uneasy. I didn’t want to be the girl with a dark life but what could I do about it? For now, hopefully, I could just ignore it.

“I can tell”, Roger’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I almost thanked him.

“Well, drama queen, if you will, you can help me with the tire. The job is done faster with two people working on it”, I thought I’d get him to assist me. He didn’t seem to mind.

“I hoped you’d ask”, Roger said and so I tossed him the lug wrench which he caught effortlessly. “And you can call me Roger. On the other hand, if you choose to call me with that ridiculous nickname, I will come up with something equally as bad for you as well.”

“You don’t intimidate me, drama queen”, I showed him my tongue, letting him know I enjoyed the nickname way too much. And so, I hurried to Deacy, Freddie and Brian with the heavy car jack in my hands. They had the spare just as planned. “So, you’re a band, huh?” I started a new conversation with them while waiting for Roger. He was probably busy thinking of a nickname I’d hate. He was fun, I liked it.

“Not long if we can’t make it on time”, Brian answered me playfully. If he had sounded dull, I would’ve taken that as a hint for me to stop talking but Brian seemed nice. They all did.

“Do you have a gig or something?” I inquired curiously while jacking up the car. They looked at each other a bit mysteriously and I caught small smirks on their faces. It’s like they had an unspoken language through eye-contact. Well, I suppose that’s what happened when you had true friends. Don’t get bitter, Y/N! I thought.

“We’re working on a little something”, Freddie finally answered me. I figured it was a band secret so I didn’t bother them more about it.

After chitchatting with them for a while, time passed and we had successfully changed the tire. That was quick, too quick for my liking because it meant they would carry on with their business and I’d be alone again. Their car was as good as new and they were ready to leave. After a round of thank yous, they got in the car, all expect Roger who would help me carry the few tools back to my car.

“Thanks for the help. I honestly thought we’d be stuck here forever”, Roger thanked me at the back of my car. I just smiled as I opened the trunk and threw in the tools.

“It was my pleasure. You guys should probably keep some tools with you from now on”, I assured him and once again looked into his baby blues. Roger really had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. His lashes were long and dark and the shade of blue in his eyes was captivating! I also sensed mystery. He was definitely not an open book and I was almost disappointed this was where our paths diverged. A part of me wanted to dive into him, to find out who he really was. I wanted to get to know them all. They were actually fun and nice, unlike most people I knew.

“You said you had never seen us live”, Roger remembered one part of the conversation we had earlier. The tone of his voice made my skin tingle with excitement. Was he going to suggest something?

“Yes?”

“We have a show in London on Monday if you want to come”, Roger did, in fact, suggest something. I wondered if he knew how happy that made me. Hearing that sent a rush of joy through my veins and a smile crept on my face.

“Just tell me where and when and I’ll try to come”, I accepted his rather sweet suggestion and just like that, I had plans for the week. After spending so much time alone lately, I was thrilled of the idea of going to see Queen. There would be loud music, fun people and probably some kind of an afterparty. They were a rockband so I didn’t expect any less. Roger didn’t have to know how excited was, it was part of the fun to leave him wondering.

“It’s at the Marquee Club”, Roger filled me in with details.

“That’s interesting. The last time I was there, I saw Jimi Hendrix", I remembered the gig all of a sudden. It was one of the best days of my life.

“You’ve seen Jimi Hendrix? You’re definitely full of surprises”, Roger seemed genuinely excited about what I revealed to him. It made me happy.

“You’re a fan?” I had to know. By now, I was so interested in our little conversation that I forgot they were in a hurry.

“I suppose you could say that. The drummer Mitch Mitchell is one of the sickest around!” Roger’s passion most certainly became evident in his voice. I loved how he talked about it and how there was a little spark of joy in his eyes. Sure, it could’ve been the sun as well but I preferred to believe he was just super keen about music and that caused the light in his eyes.

“Well, I can’t wait to hear you on the drums on Monday. I hope you can impress me”, I shrugged casually but he definitely heard the flirty hint in my voice.

“Sounds like a plan, princess”, Roger winked and began to leave. I gasped at the nickname, mostly because I absolutely hated it! How did he know I would hate it? Before I could ask, he slapped the top of my car and laughed as he stormed off. Oh, he definitely knew I hated that nickname but I suppose it was fair.

“You’re such a drama queen!” I yelled after him, unsure whether he heard it or not. Then I hurried back inside my car, already wondering if my father was missing me. I could remember him talking about some meeting the other week but honestly, I couldn’t care less. Right before I could open the door, I heard Freddie’s voice from their car. They hadn’t left quite yet.

“You flirty bastard, did you ask her out? ... Of course, you did!”

Just as suspected, I was expecting company at home. Two black cars were parked in my driveway and I saw the lights were turned on inside my house. I lived in a fancy neighbourhood in London, in a house too big for me but my father insisted I‘d live there. Apparently, I was safe that way. Since I had no real job, I couldn’t afford anything else. It was utmost annoying but it had to do for now. Then again, I suppose it would be selfish to complain when I lived in a minimansion. Two floors, a basement, a safe room and huge bedrooms weren’t anything to complain about. It was my situation that I hated. When I was at home, I felt like my father’s goons had eyes on me from dawn till dusk.

I parked my car and got outside. It was darker outside and I could tell it would rain soon. The sun was long gone, just like Roger and his mates. I wondered if they had reached their destination already as I walked up the porch to my house. To let the people inside know it was me, I knocked seven times in a very specific order and walked inside. “I’m home! Who’s here?” I called out and shut the door, kicked my shoes off and walked further inside. The red carpet I had in the hallway felt soft underneath my feet but it was cold. I made a mental note to warm the house later. That’s when three men, all dressed in black suits walked out of my living room to greet me in the hallway. This was strangely formal and I didn’t like it.

“Miss Y/N, are you alone?” One of them asked me. He was young, probably only a couple years older than me but he dressed and behaved as if he was my grandpa! His warm brown hair worked as a hint that he wasn’t grey and dry yet. I pitied him for living such a tragic life under my father’s command.

“Yes, I’m alone. What’s going on? Who are you?” I wondered and I was almost worried.

“Your father, don Kenneth McKnight has requested your presence at the Rouge Lounge this night”, the young one told me with actual fear in his green eyes. He refused to look me in the eye and I saw he was quivering. He had to be a trainee! I almost laughed but I was too shocked to do so. They broke into my house to tell me that? “And you may call me George Moonshine, the gentleman on my right is Leo Rosso and this is Oscar the blue.”

“Great. Tell him that phones exist, okay? He could’ve ringed me about this”, I sent them off with a fake smile. Their names were probably not even real but I realized it didn’t matter. Of course, I got no response to my witty comment but that was no surprise. As they were outside, I locked the door and took a deep, annoyed breath. What the fuck was my life?

That night arrived and passed. I was way too tired to get dolled up just to meet my father so we could argue. So I slept like a baby and woke up in the morning as someone called me over and over again. At first, I tried to ignore it until that person called me four times and I had to get up. If thoughts could kill, I would’ve killed someone just about now. I picked up the phone and brought it to my ear, trying my best to contain my anger. “Who is this?” I murmured tiredly and yawned, wishing dearly I was still asleep.

“Y/N, you didn’t see me last night”, it was my father. His voice made my blood boil and I felt my inner rage coming to the surface. He was the last person I wanted to wake up to!

“I was busy.”

“So was I and I made time for you, love”, he took a deep breath and I knew he was probably smoking to stay calm. Everything about that sentence angered me.

“You could’ve asked me when I had time”, I rolled my eyes at him although he couldn’t see me.

Another sigh. “Then we shall reschedule. Does Monday sound good?”

Monday! Yesterday came back to me and I could almost hear Roger’s voice in my head. I would see them tomorrow! “Uh- I’m busy? Can be meet on Thursday?” I requested any other day than Monday. I didn’t want to let him ruin my chances to make friends! Going out on Monday was currently the most special thing in my life and I would go even if I broke my leg.

“Fine. I’ll send you a ride”, and just like that, he ended the call. I heard the line go flat and I put the phone away. So, Thursday it is? I was happy now because it meant I had Monday all for myself! I couldn’t wait to see them again. Perhaps, I was most excited to see Roger. He was the one who invited me, after all. And for the brief time we spent together, I felt like we actually had some kind of a connection.

That morning, I wasn’t actually grumpy even though my father had called me. I made myself a cup of earl grey tea and sat down on my black couch to watch tv. As I enjoyed the hot drink, I already planned my outfit for Monday. Perhaps a dress would be appropriate? A short one, definitely. Oh and some red heels! Yes. It would be perfect.

I finished my tea and focused on the telly for a bit longer. The news was quite boring. They just went over what happened in England yesterday and then they got to politics. So I turned it off and got up, wondering how I could occupy myself this day. After a moment of pondering, I decided I could go and search for Queen’s new album. If I remembered correctly, they had released the self-titled album ‘Queen’ just about a week ago. I was more than happy to find it and jam it around the house and hopefully remember some lyrics for tomorrow. Little did I know...

[PART 2]

Author’s Note: I think I’ll leave this part here. It’s on the shorter side but I can’t possibly drag it out any longer because I want to leave the gig for part 2! Feedback is always welcome! :D

#queen #queen fanfiction #the killer queen #roger taylor #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy!roger taylor smut #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #x reader insert

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takadasaiko · 5 years

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Houseguest: Chapter Seven

FFN II AO3

Summary: Tony pushes Captain Ito too far and Ito pushes back.

Chapter Seven: Assumptions

Tony chattered about anything and everything on the drive back out to the facility, and Steve half wondered if the man was just trying to keep himself awake. That or his coffee intake had finally overcome the drowsy effects of the pain medication that he'd swallowed that morning that he'd been complaining about. Either way, it was easy to let the prattling fade off into the background of his own thoughts as they sped along the California highway.

In just a couple of days he'd gone from knowing very little about his old friend's son to being sucked down the rabbit hole of chaos that Tony apparently functioned in on a daily basis. One in which he alternated between holding meetings at his massive tech company and nearly getting himself blown to Kingdom Come, skirting the police with the same total lack of regard for authority that he'd put on display around SHIELD, and doing it all with a grin and a quip that Steve was sure was meant to remind everyone that Tony always thought he was the smartest one in the room. No matter who happened to be in the room with him at the time. Just like Howard.

There was all of that, but he'd found more the longer he stayed, which seemed to be the way things went with Tony Stark. The bravado was, at least in part, a mask he wore. It covered the nightmares that kept him up and the pain that trying to take on everything by himself left him in. He'd said that protecting people from the breach in security was the kind of thing he'd created Iron Man for, and it had been in that moment that Steve had realized that he hadn't known exactly what that first suit had come from. He'd seen plenty of flashy videos of what he'd used it for since, but he'd also seen the other man use it to fly a nuclear bomb through a wormhole even if there had been little hope of a return trip. He'd seen him stay behind to get everyone else out with no real guarantee the integrity of his suit could withstand the explosion. There was a lot he didn't know about Tony, and a lot of conflicting information that only served to remind him of Happy Hogan's warning of just how complicated his boss could be. He had seemed to know Tony pretty well, but he'd also said he'd worked for him for fifteen years.

"Shit." Tony's soft curse pulled Steve's attention around to the police cars that were coming into view as they pulled up to the gaping crater that remained encased in the dome from the night before.

"Were they not supposed to be here?" Steve asked cautiously.

"I'd hoped Ito would let it rest. The man always has to push back whenever we run into each other."

One of the uniformed officers motioned them through the police barricade and Tony did not look happy. He pulled through anyway and killed the engine, a more relaxed mask slipping into place as he threw his door open and stepped out. "Jimmy, fancy seeing you here. You enjoy paying your boys to stand around and do nothing?"

"I've been trying to get ahold of you all morning, Stark," the police captain growled.

Nothing about the grin Tony flashed left Steve thinking this was going to turn out well. "Well don't I feel special? What about?"

"No one in your office is capable of lowering the dome."

"True."

"They said only you can do it."

"Mostly true. Technically Jarvis has to access the satellites that send the signal down… it's a whole process with the control panel, you know, non-existent now. He only takes that order from me, though."

"Take it down."

"No."

Ito pushed a frustrated breath out through his nose. "I have an investigation to conduct. My men need to get inside."

"You got a warrant?" Tony waited, his smile never faltering. "Didn't think so. You keep saying this is your investigation, but it's on my property with tech I'm responsible for, so no. It's really not."

The police captain stood staring for just a moment as Tony turned to saunter off towards the guard post that had been cut in half by the dome before shaking his head. "Every damn time," he grumbled and turned his irritable gaze towards Steve. "Your friend is going to get himself killed if he keeps sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong."

"He's doing what he thinks is right," Steve answered.

"So's every vigilante out there, but that doesn't make them right."

Steve glanced over to where one of the officers was trying to stop him from entering the guard station. "From what I can tell, he's not actively trying to disrupt your investigation. He just wants to make sure no one gets hurt."

"He certainly hasn't been in a sharing mood."

"He doesn't have anything to share. Some information on Ellen Mira."

"What information?"

Steve paused just a moment, watching the man carefully. Communication really wasn't Tony's strong point. "Not much. Basic information, DMV records, criminal history. He said it's nothing you wouldn't already have."

"Because the son of a bitch hacked our systems," Ito snapped, turning towards where Tony had worked his way into the station. "Barrows! Take him in."

The officer that had lost his battle with Stark flashed a satisfied smile as Ito started towards them. "With pleasure, Captain."

"What the hell?" Tony demanded as the cuffs came out.

"I like your friend. He's more straightforward than you are." Tony's gaze snapped over to Steve and Steve felt his own jaw go slack. He'd stepped in it. "You're under arrest for obstruction."

The officer wrenched Tony's arms behind his back and Steve saw the flash of pain at the movement. The other man wasn't looking at him anymore, though. He wouldn't. Instead he turned that dark, sharp gaze on Ito. "It's never gonna stick."

"But it'll get you off my crime scene. We'll find our own way in."

Steve watched as they shoved Tony into a police car and he turned a frustrated look back to the captain. "That's not-"

"I would choose my next words very carefully, Rogers. I'd rather not throw Captain America in the same cell as Iron Man this afternoon."

"If Jarvis is the only one that can open that dome, you'll never get in it without Tony."

"I'm sure not all of Stark's employees are as off the reservation as he is. Now, I have a job to do. Good day, Captain."

Ito turned, leaving Steve there in a full dismissal like he hadn't heard since he'd answered to Phillips in the middle of the war. Fine. This wasn't a battle that was going to be won arguing with him anyway. Let him comb through the Stark Industry employment records for an employee that wasn't actually an employee. Steve wasn't going to offer him another word. He needed to help Tony.

________________

This was a long time coming, if he were honest. His announcement that he was Iron Man four years before had landed him with a standing arrest order by any law enforcement agency that one of his missions collided with. Not that they'd ever made good on it while it had stood - or could have - but even as the standing order faded into legal proceedings on Capitol Hill and the compromise of Rhodey's War Machine had eventually been reached, there were still a few agencies that weren't fond of him.

LAPD was hit and miss, depending on the precinct. Most of the Iron Man missions took place somewhere other than LA County, but when they did take place at home they tended to get messy, and Ito's group had dealt with a couple of this incidences so far. It didn't help that Jim had been around forever and probably had heard all the stories from other officers called in on some of the wilder parties Tony had thrown in his youth.

They weren't particularly gentle with him as they shoved him in the car at the facility and half dragged him out on the other end. It could have been worse. They popped back and forth, Tony giving verbally as good as he got all the way to the precinct. He actually managed to crack one of the officers up with one of his retorts and he thought the man's partner might have managed to turn about the shade of Pep's hair. He was handed off to another set once he got inside, and all the fun and games of the verbal sparring took a turn. Apparently they had a running bet that they needed him to settle for them: they wanted to know if he was in the suit when Iron Man showed up or did he just fly it around from the safety of his home computer like a glorified, multimillion dollar video game?

"You think this is stage makeup or something?" Tony shot back, motioning to the deep bruising that showed along his face and doing his best to keep his tone lighter than his mood as they shuffled him through the building. "That usually goes to cover it."

"Even in New York?" one of the beat cops pressed.

"Even New York," Tony answered darkly.

The question about New York followed immediately by being shoved into an interrogation room and made a show of slamming the door behind him did nothing for his anxiety levels. He hated tight places and locked doors. At least they'd removed the cuffs when they had gotten inside the building. That relieved the strain on his bruised body.

If there was one thing he hated more than the feeling of being trapped, it was boredom. Tony spent the first however many minutes standing before he moved to take a seat, feet rebelliously propped up on the table and chair tilted back like he was going to take a nap. That lasted all of five seconds before nervous energy had him popping back up on his feet again and pacing, working hard to ignore the steady ache in his foot with each step. It left him desperate to distract himself with anything.

It didn't take long for his searching thoughts to settle on the Rogers. The man might not be the central reason he found himself in this box of a room - were the walls getting closer or was that just him? - but something he had said had set Ito off. For a supposedly top notch super spy, he was way too trusting. He needed lessons from Romanoff of something.

The door finally opened, pulling Tony from his thoughts halfway to the far wall. He spun around to look at the newcomer and his injured foot twinged painfully. He barely managed to catch his balance before meeting Jim Ito's stoic gaze. The older man quirked an eyebrow. "You don't look good, Stark."

"Well that's rude," Tony grumbled, but even he could hear the strain in his own voice and he shifted his weight. "You here to charge me or release me?"

"You hacked our computer systems."

Well that wasn't an answer. "Is that what Rogers told you, because I'm pretty sure he still thinks hacking is something you do with a sharp object."

Ito snorted. "You always think everything is a joke. If you want to get yourself killed, you do it on your own time, but if you do it while sticking your nose into a police investigation for your little PR stunt,we get blamed for Iron Man's death."

"PR stunt? Seriously?" Tony met and held his gaze, letting all of the false amusement dissipate. "I'll let you in on a secret, Jim. There are much less painful ways for me to land on the front page of any national site, paper, and newsroom, and I've got a whole team that can make it happen with one call from our corporate offices. I don't need to get myself blown to hell for it."

The two men stood and watched each other for a long moment, neither giving until a sharp tap on the door finally broke the tense moment. A detective stuck her head inside. "Sir? A word?"

Ito grumbled a response and stepped outside. Tony didn't even have a chance to hobble back over to the chair before he returned, somehow looking more peeved than when he'd left a minute earlier. He held the door open.

"I take it I'm free to go?"

"Pays to have friends in high places."

Interesting. He hadn't been given a phone call or even charged with anything as far as he knew. He wondered how the lawyers had found out. They did work quickly, though, which probably meant Pepper knew about it too. That'd be an earful.

Ito expression was steeled as he passed him at the door, but he must have known that he couldn't hold Tony with what he had. The man had never liked him, and that bitterness had somehow compounded since he'd become Iron Man. Tony paused where he was. "What is it about me? I mean, I get that you and some of your colleagues don't like the whole superhero gig, but it's not like I'm the only one to -"

"People like you aren't heroes, Stark."

Ouch. Funny. He thought he'd heard that before. "Don't believe everything you read in the tabloids."

"I don't have to. I got a first-hand look when I was called out to the scene after Howard Stark's wild child got so drunk he wrapped his newest sports car around a tree. You're arrogant, reckless, have no respect for anyone in authority, and have been bailed out of every compromising position you find yourself in. The fact that there's a United States Air Force colonel in my office right now proves that the only thing that's really changed is that you've convinced the country you're somehow on par with Captain America. I don't buy it."

That struck a nerve and Tony leaned in, his voice deadly quiet so that only Ito could hear him. "You wanna know why I didn't call you or anybody else out of the LAPD? It has nothing to do with respect and everything to do with the fact that once we were there, I knew it could go up, and I was already fighting the odds to get the people that were already in there out."

"Our job is to -"

"I know what your job is, Captain Ito. And contrary to what you seem to believe, I think you're pretty damn good at it. That's the problem. Can you look me in the eye and, no matter how much you hate me, say that you would have ordered your men out while I got the dome up?"

"You're a civilian, Stark. That's our job," Ito ground out.

"And your people don't have an ARC reactor powered suit that can take the hits and get them out of there either. World's changing. We're facing down gods and aliens and…. shit I never thought I could believe in. This wasn't just any other break in, and you weren't equipped to handle it. I was. So you didn't get a call."

"You're trying to tell me you were protecting us?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Tony pulled in a sharp breath, ready to turn and leave, but stopped just shy of it. "And I've done a lot of stupid things drunk, but wrapping the car around the tree wasn't one of them. I was testing a system that would help auto-correct a car at high speeds. It didn't work and I went off the road and into a tree." He waited, watching Ito process the information. "But please. Keep thinking you know a damn thing about me."

And then he stormed out, determination keeping his steps steady. He didn't slow down until he reached the lobby and found a familiar face waiting just outside of Ito's office. Rhodey looked like he was gearing up to gripe at him, but his expression softened almost instantly as their eyes met. He reached out, balancing Tony even as the younger man felt the adrenaline that had spurred him through his anger with Ito wash out of him, and he leaned a little into his friend. "Let's get you home," Rhodey offered and all Tony could do was nod.

________________

TBC

Notes: The conversation with Ito took so many forms from conception to where it stands now, but I'll admit I'm pretty darn happy with the way it came out.

Next time: Rhodey calls a doctor, Pepper threatens to cut her trip short, and Tony finally gets an answer to his question.

#MCU fanfiction #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #Iron Man #Captain America

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itsjustcommon · 6 years

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My Testimony... finally

I’ve been avoiding writing this out for a long time. I’ve always had a hard time sharing my testimony. But recently I’ve seen a few people share theirs and it helped me a lot, so maybe mine can help someone else.

The thing I guess that I’m ashamed of most is that worst sins came after I was saved. My story is one of backsliding down Everest basically. But I’ll start in the beginning.

I was raised in a household that professed to be Christian. I was in church almost three times a week. I was forced to memorize scripture since 9 (I’m much more grateful for that now than I was then). Despite my parents being Christian we didn’t talk a lot about it. I remember in sixth grade we had a Sex Ed portion of our science class. I went to school in Wisconsin, it was a very liberal curriculum. They told us about pornography and masturbation and how they were a healthy part of growing up. Now I have to give my 6th grade self credit because something immediately sketched me out about that. I went to my mom and straight up asked her if masturbation was a sin. She said she would get back to me… I still haven’t gotten an answer from her yet.

Despite being extremely curious, I didn’t go there. That next summer my family moved from Wisconsin, all the way to Louisiana. I went to a small public school called Church Point middle, which is ironic because it was opposite of anything remotely godly. I guess kids are more sheltered in the town I was from because I learned a lot the next year. These kids were sexually active, knew every swear word you could think of, got into fights constantly, were so disrespectful to everyone and everything around them. It was honestly one of the worst years of my life. I stuck out like a sore thumb, I didn’t curse, I couldn’t tell you much about sex, I actually tried to do well in class, I was nice to the teachers, I had a weird northern accent and I pretty much kept to myself. Prime bullying material. I got called pretty much every name in the book but because the guys were so aggressive, my friends were pretty much exclusively girls, so queer was the name they settled on. I found out later it was someone I thought was my friend who started that rumor. At this point I had basically one friend- her name was Natia, she was a lesbian that already had a 1 year old baby-in seventh grade.

Seventh grade is where I started watching porn, I was already depressed and I felt like I couldn’t go to my parents for anything. My behavior started conforming to the people around me, I started swearing, manipulating people, cheating, getting into fights, ironically I developed this pridefulness over being morally superior to the people around me-despite engaging in all the same activities.

Eighth grade my parents moved me and my sisters into a private Christian school my mom worked at. That’s where I attended until I graduated. I was in a new environment so my actions changed accordingly. I became the meek kid again, I tried in school again, I stopped swearing(out loud), I became the good Christian boy I was expected to be. But there was one thing I couldn’t kick, I couldn’t stop watching porn, I didn’t want to either. I justified it because I has never heard anyone talk about porn in church, that must mean that it wasn’t a sin.

I met a kid named Timothy in eighth grade, there was something different about him. He was funny without being vulgar, he was a leader without trying, he loved Jesus not just with his mouth but his whole life. He was someone I wanted to be friends with, I wanted him to show me what he had that I didn’t. He was effortlessly Timothy, I felt like every move I made was all an act.

It wasn’t until sophomore year that we got close. But I got so much worse in the meantime. I was looking at pornography on an almost daily basis. The “soft core” stuff wasn’t enough for me anymore. I actually started watching gay porn, partially because I was still insecure from being called queer everyday for a year, it was a way to reclaim my sexuality I guess, make it my choice, and in part just because it was something that felt new and different. Again during all this time I still considered myself a Christian.

My sophomore schedule worked out in a way that I spent most of my day with Timothy, including a free period. It was because of this that we became really close. I remember one conversation where he asked me if I had ever shared my faith with someone. I told that I hadn’t and he challenged me to really think about why that was. He started reading the Bible with me, giving me books to read on my own, really discipling me. He confronted me about my sin and got me to the point where I admitted that I wasn’t acting like a Christian, and not only that but I had never acted like a Christian. He made me realize the title of Christian is a hat you can take off and on. That part of my sophomore year was one of the best seasons of my life. I felt like the dusty skeletons of religion became this thing that made me feel alive, really alive. For the first time reading the Bible felt new and fresh and exciting. It was my lifeblood

This is when I really started feeling convicted about my pornography addiction. I reached out to a mentor figure from my church who was a few years older than me. I called him in the middle of the night crying about how ashamed I was and how I needed someone to keep me accountable. And things got better, it wasn’t perfect repentance but God was changing my desires.

That same year my dad went to prison. That destroyed me, I’d never felt super close to my dad and all this did was push me further from him. My mom couldn’t afford rent with her single salary, if it weren’t for the church we would have been homeless. It was not a good time for my family. I fell back into my sin. And I feel like it was worse this time around because I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. I stopped praying and going to church. I couldn’t even open my bible without wanting to throw up. I hated myself. I felt like God must hate me too.

I didn’t stay there long. I was able to forgive my dad and God brought me back. I helped a buddy start this small group program at our school and I threw myself into writing the curriculum and learning as much about God as possible. I learned that when I told others about the Gospel I was also preaching it to myself. When I stopped sharing the gospel I seemed to forget it too. My dad was released from prison in my senior year of high school, soon after he moved back in with my mom. Things seemed good, and they were. This was a season of restoration.

I was nearing graduation. I had good grades, I planned on going to LSU. I had the ACT scores, most of the cost would be covered by scholarships. I planned to major in philosophy and maybe to law school. One night when I was praying I got super convicted—I realized that I hadn’t gone to God for any of these major life decisions I was making on my own. So I asked him where he wanted me to go and he told me—the United States Air Force. So that was where I set my sights, I started getting prepared for that. It was strange because I went to a college prep school, it was assumed that I was going to college basically my whole life, I never thought about doing anything different.

This is a good time to talk about my summer job. I worked at a small baptist camp. I lived there during the summer in a house with 10 other Christian guys and worked with another 10 Christian girls. These people became my family almost immediately. We had weekly bible studies with our bosses, and often stayed up till morning just talking about Jesus. That summer was the closest I ever felt to God. I felt like he was revealing so much to me. All we did was serve campers and talk about Jesus so he was always on the forefront of my mind. I wish that season never came to an end.

At the end of the summer I shipped out to San Antonio for basic training. Armed with my Bible I was ready. It was tough, not because we did anything particular hard but because I felt so isolated from my friends and family. My first Sunday there I was able to attend church and it was so refreshing, I wept for most of the worship. Basic training was one of the most fruitful mission fields I’ve ever seen. All I had to do was open my bible and within 5 minutes someone would come up to me curious about God. I guess these people being isolated made them realize how hungry they were for the gospel.

After two months I graduated and headed to my tech training. I was there for 6 months. I didn’t have a car so I didn’t go to church. I got lazy. I stopped sharing the gospel, I stopped reading my Bible. And I backslide. I had this new found freedom to do whatever I wanted. I had no accountability to anyone. I was away from my parents for the first time and with it came incredibly loneliness. I fell back into my pornography addiction. It was worse than before, I had to look at crazier and crazier stuff to feel anything. And when porn wasn’t enough anymore I started talking to strangers online, posting pictures of myself on the internet. Someone recognized that I was in a Air Force dorm and asked me which base I was at. Turns out he lived 2 floors down from me. We had sex, it was just the next step, watching porn wasn’t doing it for me anymore so I lived out my fantasies. I found out later he was married. That didn’t stop me from seeing him a few more times. I just felt numb, even after I stopped seeing him. I knew it was the worst thing I’ve ever done but I couldn’t process any of my feelings about it. I started to punish myself by running every night. I would push myself to run 8 to 9 miles every night. I lost so much weight. It was incredibly unhealthy but I didn’t know what else to do. I had never messed up this badly, I felt like I lost my salvation. I couldn’t bear to think about it, so I didn’t. I kept running. I wanted to kill myself, but I was too afraid of Hell.

I went home for a few weeks after tech school was over in April. It was bittersweet, I missed them so much but I felt like I was lying to them. Finally I spilled my guts, I talked to one of my friends while I was home and I explained what I had done. Basically they told me to stop moping, I was at rock bottom but wasn’t doing anything about it. God commands repentance, so I needed to stop hiding from him. He was waiting with open arms. I took one step, I confessed to God and he was faithful to forgive. I took one step toward home and it felt like God ran to met me where I was at. Sometimes it was hard to “feel” forgiven. Eventually I had to acknowledge that I was forgiven even when I didn’t feel it.

I was assigned to my first permanent duty station that April. I’ve been here in Washington since then. I still struggle. I go to a small church, I’m part of a men’s bible study-I’m the youngest guy there by 35 years. It’s nice to be back in a position of being discipled, in my experience that typically means God is preparing me for something big. If I had to guess it’s probably my upcoming deployment. I’m hopeful for the future. God is still restoring me. Everyday I desire him more and my sin less. Sometimes progress seems slow going but it’s progress nonetheless. God is faithful, I’m confident he will finish the good work He began in me.

Takeaways:

If I'm not preaching the gospel as often as I can, I forget it. The number one way that I can be sure I'm keeping Jesus at the forefront of my mind is by telling other people what he did for sinners

There is no “too far gone”

Sometimes a Christian’s greatest sins are still in front of them, have faith that Jesus died for those sins too.

The Bible is serious when it says to flee sexual immorality. Do not toe the line. Run away-it is a slippery slope.

Scripture especially important to me:

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9)

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1:6)

Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. (1 Corinthians 6:9-12)

If anyone in the LGBT+ community is reading this I want you to know I don’t hate you, I’m not better than you. I have no high horse to ride on.

I’m just a beggar telling another where I found bread.

#long post

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destielthedeathofme · 6 years

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Shattering Glass

Prompt: Its like a business thing with Dean as Castiel's assistant.

Tags/Genre: CEO Cas, PA Dean, Fluff, Oneshot, Cliche, Not 50 Shades Of Gray, I hope,

Warnings: I cuss like a sailor bitches

Summary: Dean didn't ever think this would happen.

A/n: This might be a two shot.

~♡~

Dean winced as his head landed with a thud on the keyboard. Eyes fluttering open at the sudden movement, that was probably the closest to sleep he'd been in ages.

10:00

It was 10 fucking PM and his boss hadn't left the office yet, meaning Dean couldn't either. An unspoken rule within their relationship. Glancing around the empty room Dean sighed, everyone had gone home but him. Typical.

Castiel Novak CEO of Garrison Enterprises wasn't known for his kindness rather his temper. Dean could remember the way he practically shrunk during the interview due to Castiel's piercing gaze. The fact that his boss was practically the hottest person in the business industry didn't help either. Dean was used to interviews with cranky old men well past 40, but Castiel was as young as ever. Dean still didn't know if that was a good thing yet. Hair damp from a shower and suit fitted to perfection, the man had sat in perfect posture eyeing Dean like he was some sort of meal. Despite his ogling and stuttering,somehow, he still managed to get the job. Dean hoped to get to know Castiel better, but he hadn't even achieved the first name basis after over a month of working for him. At least he knew how the guy liked his coffee, that had to count for something right? Along with a crush that's all that Dean's gotten from this job. He was fresh out of corny jokes to make, the closest he'd gotten was Castiel's lips curving upward, that shut down very quickly. None of his smirks or winks were working on Castiel Novak and he was not happy. But he was done with the bullshit, Dean had a life damnit. One that consisted of not much more than Baby, booze and his brother. But it was still a life and one that Dean intended on living.

Mustering up all the courage he had, Dean marched down to his boss's office, determined to actually be able to get at least 5 hours of sleep tonight. Which would be a blessing really.

Dean opened the door, suddenly regretting the amount of force he put into that because the door banged a little too loudly for his sleep deprived ears.

Castiel had been hunched over a stack of papers that Dean debated putting through as shredder but nonetheless refrained. But now, his eyes were fixed on Dean, confusion clouding his face. Tie loosened, hair astray he looked perfect somehow. Just the perfect bachelor CEO that Times needed. Sam had fangirled so hard when he found out, Dean debated on crushing his dreams and telling Sam that the guy was an asshole but he decided against it.

"Dean, what are you-"

"I'm leaving."

"Pardon?"

Dean grit his teeth and smiled tightly ,"You know what? I'll explain this the way I would your schedule for the day because that's the language you business freaks speak in. It's 10 PM, I live almost and hour away. If I get home at 11, I'll be in bed by 12. And that gives me 6 hours of sleep before I have to haul my ass to this hell. So please let me go, because I'm in need of at least 5 hours of sleep."

Dean almost ran out of the room, wondering if he would get fired or not. That was the most they've conversed after the interview, Castiel was more of a email guy. But instead of the pure I'm-going-to-throw-a-shit-fit face, one he was accustomed to Castiel gave him an amused look. He eyed the glass surrounding him, if he made a run for it, Dean would probably still make it.

"I was going to ask what you're doing here? Everyone else left."

Dean stared at him in shock, that wasn't what he prepared himself for. He expected raging fury, getting fired, possibly some shattering of expensive stuff that his billionaire boss didn't need.

*Flashback to Christmas*

Dean bounced his way into his cubicle, not even caring that he was 15 minutes late to work, it was freaking 1 day away from Christmas. He had the fucking right. It was bad enough that he was being forced to work, but if his boss showed even a bit of an attitude Dean would so quit. He hoped that Castiel would have the Christmas Spirit.

Dean busied himself in emails when he realized that he'd forgotten to get Castiel coffee. Shit, he was so screwed.

Dean bolted out of his chair and ran to the small coffe shop right around the corner and ordered whatever dose of caffeine he could find. Peppermint Mocha? Whatever as long as his boss had the daily dose of caffeine he needed, Dean would be safe, right?

Speed walking to Castiel's office, Dean burst into the room, "I'm so sorry Cas, I completely forgot about your coffee."

Castiel was not in a good mood. He could tell by the cloud of emotions on his face, Dean memorized every expression on Castiel's face. The slight jut of his chin, or the way his eyebrows furrowed. Hell, he could tell by the sound of his footsteps if Cas was in a good mood or not.

Dean set the coffee down slowly, not realizing his mistake.

"What did you call me?"

"Uh Cas?" Dean had overheard Castiel's much more pleasurable brother call him Cassie and he assumed Cas was alright. It was, wasn't it?

"It's Mr. Novak to you, I'm your boss."

So much for the Christmas Spirit, the guy must be the grinch himself. Nah, he's too good looking, argued Dean's mind which he begrudgingly agreed to.

Dean almost fucking resigned right then and there, what was the guy's problem? Most people called their bosses' by their first name right?

Castiel drank the coffee, which he then spewed all over the office.

"What the hell is this?"

"Peppermint Mocha?" Dean said weakly.

"Get the fuck out, and type up the rest of the manuscripts while you're at it."

"Ok." Dean had to bite his tongue from giving the asshole a piece of his mind.

He almost cried, there was at least 60 copies left, he'd be here till Christmas day. But like a savior, Charlie helped him through it, and he smirked up at Cas before popping his head through the door and saying,"I'm done bye!"

Dean however heard a lot of shattering that day, needless to say he didn't ever dare repeat any of the things he did that day. He never called Castiel, Cas and only addressed him as boss, which thankfully he didn't mind. And Dean wouldn't even go within a 5 mile radius of Peppermint Mocha.

*end of flashback*

"Balthazar said- He said that I can only leave when you do!" Dean said incredulously. Everyone at the office told him that, some cruel prank probably now that he thinks of it.

Castiel let out a small chuckle, a sound Dean was most definitely not accustomed to. Dean stood there gaping like a fish. Was this the same man who fired people with the snap of his fingers. The same one who stormed out of meetings? Holy shit, Dean had to be dreaming.

"You know what, let me drop you home, it's the least I can do." Castiel said gathering his things and getting up.

Dean stumbled a bit but muttered out a yes, partly because he didnt have a ride. On a side note, Dean Winchetser never thought he would have to say that in his life ever, him not having a ride, absolute bullshit. But Baby was in need of some fine tuning and working out her kinks soothed Dean, especially after grueling work hours. And partly because he was still too dazed to refuse.

Within moments they were in Castiel's silver Lexus, Dean still not over the past 15 minutes of his life. He half expected there to be a driver, but Cas drove himself which surprised Dean.

"Did you eat?"

"Hm?"

"I asked if you had eaten anything? It's awfully late, why don't I buy you dinner?"

Dean snapped himself out of whatever this was and ignored the stabbing pain his stomach from hunger. He could hardly believe he was in Castiel Novak's car, much less being invited to dinner by him.

"No I'm good."

"Dean, I insist, you didn't eat lunch either." Castiel gave him a meaningful glance.

How the hell did he know that?

"No, really, I had a s-salad, yeah I had a salad."

He did not eat a fucking salad. Rabbit food ain't his cup of tea. But it was the only food that came to his mind then, so he used it for his horrible lie.

"I thought you hated salads."

How did he know that too? What the fuck was this guy a stalker? Maybe he should have done more research than scouring through tabloids on his boss. For starters, Castiel was fucking bipolar. And actually cared? Since when did he care? Not for the past month and a half alright. But Dean cared. Probably too much, but he made sure Castiel ate for the past month, refusing for him to even miss a meal or meeting.

Dean realized they were pulling up to a restaraunt much too late, as Castiel already parked the car. He wanted to protest, but his stomach disagreed growling loudly. Dean gave Castiel a sheepish look as Castiel glared at him.

The restaurant had the you'd-probably-go-into-debt-if-you-ate-here vibe, but Dean supposed that was normal for a billionaire. He wondered if he'd even managed to grab his wallet, in his dazed state.

The place was dim lit and was practically empty, probably because it was close to 11 and the people who could actually afford to eat here, were tucked into bed. Silver spoon in their mouths, Dean thought bitterly. He was anything but rich, he grew up far worse than he was now though. So Dean was grateful for the little things, the most expensive thing he owned being Baby. But he was content, he had a job, a roof over his head, and food on his table. And most importantly, Dean could pay for Sam's school. He didn't care if he had to skip a meal, as long as Sammy was in school. But his landlord seemed intent in kicking him out, stating that he was out at odd hours and made up a bunch of crap about his rent. Whatever, what's the worst that could happen?

Castiel began ordering and Dean wondered why the staff looked so nervous. Other than the flirty glances from waitresses, everyone else looked like they were going to start crying any moment.

Dean settled on a good old fashioned steak while Cas ordered something that required much to many brain cells and syllables for him to comprehend.

He was surprised at how natural it all felt, just having dinner with Cas, even though situation was anything but. If anyone told Dean this was going to happen an hour ago, Dean would have laughed and thrown the person into a mental hospital.

Dean groaned in satisfaction as he tasted the meatloaf, which was cooked amazingly. He was starving, and this meatloaf tasted like heaven. But he didn't miss the weird look Cas gave him, like Dean was doing something wrong. He flushed at Castiel's eyes that were burning his soul at the moment, he could never get used to those eyes. It's the eyes. They're the reason why Dean's smitten. As if he wasn't attractive enough, he managed to have the bluest eyes in the universe. After Dean finished up his meal, Castiel and him walked out of the restaraunt.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why did everyone there look like they're going to have a panic attack, and why didn't you pay?"

"Oh sweetheart, I own the restaraunt."

Dean flushed once again in embarrassment, of course he did. He didn't flush because of the "sweetheart" part, not at all.

"Oh."

Castiel let out a chuckle, which Dean was tempted to record because no one would believe him if they said that Castiel Novak was capable of anything more than a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Dean was soon curled up in the Lexus, tempted to fall asleep, but wouldn't allow himself to. Castiel thankfully knew the way to Dean's apartment, something he'd look more into when he wasn't drowsy. And if he had a problem with the neighborhood that Dean lived in, Cas didn't show it. He felt someone shaking him as soon as he closed his eyes, which was only for a minute.

"We're here."

Dean fumbled for his keys before realizing that he didn't have them with him, his keys forgotten at his office. Add a landlord that already hated Dean for not paying the rent on time to the mix, he had no way of getting into his apartment. Dean glanced back at Castiel's car which didn't move from it's spot, as if he was waiting for Dean to go in. Shit. How would he play this off? He could crash at Bobby's but they lived much too far away for Dean to walk there, he suddenly felt the lack of Baby in his life overwhelming. Dean silently vowed to finish working in her tomorrow.

Dean noticed the little yellow card on his door and read the note cursing at his shitty landlord. He had to pay the rent by tomorrow, even though he was supposed to have a week left. He couldn't make that kind of money in a week. He cursed at himself too, for choosing such a lavish apartment when he could've settled for much less.

Cas got out of his car and walked to Dean his face showing a hint of worry,

"Why aren't you going in?"

"I don't have my keys and I'm pretty sure I'm going to get kicked out of here ."

"Ah, I see."

Dean cringed at the situation he was in. There was no way out other than asking Castiel for help again. Oh, if he just refused the ride.

"You could stay with me."

"What?"

"You could stay with me for as long as you need, till you're back on your feet again."

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #castiel #i love him #cas #destiel #oneshot #destielthedeathofme #fluff #otp #writing prompts #prompts #writing #idk #i hope yall like #i kinda like it

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steves-on-a-plane · 6 years

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Average Avenger’s Gal Part 2

Part One Words: 1991 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Summary: The Reader is at the tale end of a fifteen hour shift, and Steve comes in to pick her up for a date when an irate customer storms in. He’s impressed by how well Reader handles the situation and is glad to see his services wont be needed today.

"Ugh, what a day!" You huffed as you leaned against the back counter of your store's cashwrap. You folded your arms over your chest and cast your eyes out at the sales floor. It had been one hell of a day indeed. You'd had three people call out for their shifts, and it was a Saturday, no less. The displays were positively ransacked and you'd basically been on your feet for fourteen hours.

"Just think there's still five more minutes to go!" Your cashier, Melanie, reminded you. She gently tapping on the time stamp in the corner of the register's touchscreen.

"At this point isn't that extra five minutes more of a technicality?" You winked, letting her know that you were only joking. "Thanks for sticking it out with me today."

"Anytime, Boss." Mel smiled.

"Well, I guess we'd better start cleaning. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can go home." You pushed off the counter and started walking backwards towards the front of the store. "I'll take front, you get back, okay?"

"Since when are you in a hurry to get out if here?" Melanie laughed, already going to the nearest wall to begin straightening things out.

"Since, I finally have somewhere to be tonight other than here!" You called back to here. Before Melanie had a chance to reply you bumped into someone behind you. You supposed that's what you got for walking backwards through the store. "Oh, gosh I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed, turning around. You relaxed as soon as you recognized your number one customer.

"You should be careful, walking like that." Steve warned with a smile. You noticed that he'd decided to forego the usual disguise of a baseball cap and sunglasses this time.

"I do it all the time. Would you believe that's the first time I've ever bumped into anyone?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Actually, yes." Steve nodded. "It amazes me how you're always so aware of your surroundings in a store this big."

"Well I have to be." You shrugged. "I'm basically, the store Mom. I need to know what everyone is doing at all times. Like right now, I can tell that Mel is only pretending to fix that shelve." You whipped your head around and gave her a playful glare.

"How did you know?" She gasped.

"Because you always pretend to do work when nice looking guys come into the store. You're afraid to start doing any actual work in case they need help." You said.

"I do not!" She disagreed, abandoning her wall and walking towards you and Steve. "Was there something we could help you with sir? I'm sorry, my boss just wants to gossip all night."

"Oh, no thank you, Melanie." Steve told her politely. "I actually just came to see if [Y/N] was still up for our date tonight. I know you said in your text messages earlier that you worked a fifteen hour shift, so..."

"I'm only a little tired." You couldn't stop yourself from yawning. "But who knows when we'll both have the time off again."

"I'm sorry, this is your something else you have to do tonight?" Melanie interrupted. "Wait a minute, aren't you one of the regulars? You usually have on a cap and shades."

"Well, I guess it's finally time to introduce you." You sigh. "Mel, this is Captain Steve Rogers. Steve this is..."

"You didn't tell anyone that you were dating Captain America?" Melanie gasped. There was a hint of betrayal in her tone.

“It’s not like my private business is relevant to our jobs.” You explained.

“Wait a minute, so all of our regulars…Sam with the nice smile and Bruce they’re…” Melanie’s eye grew wide with realization. She wasn’t able to freak out the way that she normally would because just then a customer came into the store.

“Are you still open?” The customer said with a smile.

“Mmmhhmm.” Mel nodded. “Is there something we can help you with?” She led the customer off towards the back of the store and helped her to find the things that she needed. It was only a couple minutes before Melanie and the customer were at the cash register.

“I guess I should let you get back to work.” Steve offered. “Let me know what you feel like…”

“Hang on, Steve.” You had to interrupt him because Mel was waving you over to her. “What’s up?” You asked taking in Melanie’s distressed look and the customer’s frustrated one.

“She will not give me 20% off my order.” The customer huffed as if that should clear everything up. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other in irritation.

“Oh, I’m sorry about the misunderstanding.” You apologized immediately. You knew that in these kinds of situations it was best to make the customer feel like you were on their side. “Do you have the 20% off coupon that you would like to use today?”

“No!” The customer remarked with a raised voice. You could see Steve in the edge of your peripheral vision slowly creeping his way towards the back of the store to asses the situation for himself. “I shouldn’t need to bring a coupon!” The customer continued to raise her voice. “I shop in this store all of the time. I spend hundreds of dollars in here. I think I’m entitled to a coupon.”

“Oh.” You replied quietly. You knew the situation would only be worse if you couldn’t keep an even tone when talking yourself. You clasps your hands together under the counter so that the customer wouldn’t see how bad you were shaking with nerves. These sort of confrontations never ended well.

“Unfortunately, coupons are only for our rewards member customers and they are earned base on previous purchases.” You explained calmly with a smile you hoped didn’t look too forced. “If you have earned a coupon through our rewards program I would need to see the coupon in order for us to give you the appropriate discount.”

“I’m sorry?” The customer’s voice now seemed to crack into a new octave.

“Sorry, as I said all of our coupons are base on our rewards program…” You began to explain again, but the woman interrupted you.

“I understood what you said.” She snapped. “But I don’t think you understood me. I want 20% off my total. After all the customer is always right.” Inside your blood was boiling. There was nothing more infuriating than when a customer throws that phrase around. Because the truth was the customer is not always right, sometimes the customer comes in five minutes before you’re about to close just to harass you.

“Ladies is there a problem here?” Steve was now standing three feet away from the customer. He flashed you and Melonie a concerned look before standing up straight and showcasing all 6 feet of his muscular frame for the customer.

“No, thank you, sir.” You told Steve kindly and firmly. You dealt with situations like this on a daily basis. You could handle an irate customer on your own. “But maybe Melanie can show you our new line of coconut milk soaps?” You gave Melanie an excuse to escape the cash register, and she took you up on that offer; leading Steve by the arm away from the scene.

“Ok now I can…” You were about to offer the 20% off to the customer anyway, despite the fact that she didn’t actually have said coupon, but she interrupted you before you got the chance.

“You can find me a manager is what you can do!” The woman snarled. “All the times I have shopped here, I have never had to deal with someone like you.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I’m the only manager on duty today.” You apologized again for what felt like the fourth time too many. “As I was saying, I can…”

“You can wait one damn minute while I call customer service.” Again, without even giving you a chance to rectify the situation the woman whipped out her cellphone and called your corporate customer service. In the end the customer service representative told you to give the woman the 20% off her total even though she didn’t have any coupons present. The customer left in a huff and the whole thing left you feeling frustrated and defeated.

“You’re a better person than me.” Melanie whistled once you were alone with just her and Steve again. “I would have let muscles here deal with her when he offered.”

“That’s not the right thing to do.” You shook your head. “As frustrating as it is the have the customer service team just give her the coupon anyway, as least the customer is happy, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Your hands are shaking.” Steve noticed as you reached out to straighten some lotions on a table.

“Oh, that happens.” You shrugged again. “You’ve heard of fight or flight? Well, working in retail neither is really an option. Fighting further with that woman wouldn’t have gotten me anything except fired. And as for flight? I’d rather she yell and scream at me than Melanie. In a way I’m responsible for her. It’s not fair to let someone scream at my cashier just because I don’t want to deal with it. So, have to smile and I have to do my best to try and make customers happy.”

“Even if it means you get screamed at for following the rules?” Steve didn’t understand.

“At least she only screamed.” Mel snorted. “Sometimes they throw stuff.”

“Throw stuff?” Steve’s eyes widened in horror. “Do they throw stuff at you?”

“Sometimes.” You answered truthfully. “It doesn’t happen very often. At least not in this store. I worked at an amusement park for a while, I had someone spit on me there.”

“What did you do?” Steve gasped.

“Called security.” You sighed. “What else could I do? People who spit on you or scream or throw stuff because of coupons, they usually have something else going on in their lives. And as much as I might want to throw stuff or yell back, I don’t, because I feel sorry for them. If getting to cut a line or a discount or something is that important to them that they feel the need to scream in my face about it, what else do they have to live for? If those little things set them off, what actually brings them joy?”

“Damn.” Melanie exclaimed. “That’s really deep. You really are a better person than me. I’m going to clean, because I want to go home. But it was nice meeting you muscles, any chance you can introduce me to a friend of yours?”

“Go clean, Mel.” You urged her. “I’m sorry you had to see all of that.”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “Don’t be sorry! That was…that was incredible, what you did. I had no idea these kinds of things happened on a regular basis. And the way you handled it! You’re shaking now but you were so calm and collected when you were talking to her. And you found a way to get Melanie out in case the situation got any worse. You’re an expert at crisis management.”

“You don’t have to build me up like that.” You said as you felt your cheeks go flush with embarrassment.

“I’m not!” Steve insisted. “I’ve seen actually hostage situations that haven’t been handled as well. I’m sorry that it had to happen, but I’m glad that I got a chance to see you in action. Women of this time never stop impressing me with how resilience you are, but I think you might be the most fascinating woman I know.”

“Awww!” Melanie gushed from two tables over.

“Clean!” You told her firmly, but with a genuine smile on your face. “I want to get out of here and change so that I can go on my date with Steve.”

#Captain America #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers Reader Insert #Steve Rogers FF #Steve Rogers Fan Fic #Steve Rogers Fan Fiction #captain america fanfiction #Captain American Fan Fic #Captain America Reader Insert #AverageAvengersGals

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freezingwintah · 6 years

Text

Hot - headed capitulation

Something was way off. This bed was too soft to be his, Sans thought, half sleepy. And his bed wasn't so big either. Sans sat up and had a look around.

This wasn't his bedroom. The walls were dark blue and bed was so comfy, he never wanted to get up, but he should. Who's bed he was in and why or how did he end in it?

Then the events from yesterday came back to him and he blushed deep red, burying head in hands. He really pulled it off. By Asgore's beard, Grillby...

… This is Grillby's room...

I am at his house.

Flabbergasted didn't do justice the feeling he was experiencing. But... where was Grillby? The blankets were done on other side of bed. Sans gulped down. Oh my god. We slept in the same bed. Now I remember. The door creaked and Grillby was standing before me, in his usual black suit and red tie, holding two plates of... hot dogs with mustard. Grillbz knows me the best, Sans thought to himself as he gazed at the purple elemental who approached the bed and sat down close. "I was about to wake you up. I'll be heading to work soon and I wanted to eat with you something."

Grillby gave him the plate with the hot dog and Sans took it, unsure how to act. They weren't on a customer – bartender basis no longer. They have upgraded their relationship to lovers.

Lovers.

It was still hard to believe that a simple blue flower played a huge role in their get – together. In Underground, strong looked for a suitable partner with high LOVE , because it was just like that for years. Sans was sure their relationship will not be approved by the community in Snowdin. And Pap - Boss, he'll blow a fuse, or several as he knew him. Such ghastly matters should be left for later. Now...

He should enjoy the morning with Grillby.

The skeleton dug into the hot dog, munching and avoiding the intense silent stare - down of his lover who also ate, but was way too focused on Sans. Said skeleton was nervous under the warm gaze. He wasn't used to someone looking at him so tenderly. He was more used to the annoyed and pissed off looks whenever someone saw the small skeleton. This was tingling all his bones and his hearts fluttered. These mushy feelings, they are back. Honestly, this was all new for him. Grillby touched his cheekbone with a gloved hand, tracing down and Sans stayed still. Wh- what is it?

The elemental gathered something from his face and licked. "Mustard." He stated and Sans got even more flustered. Grillby held his hands and the 'dogs were forgotten. "grillb-"

He was silenced by a pair of fiery lips seizing him. Sans enthusiastically opened his mouth to grant him better access. He vividly heard the fire elemental giggle at that.

– DING DONG –

Grillby ignored the door bell ringing and Sans's head was spinning from mushy and fluffy overload. Sans tried to speak between kisses. "grillbz... ah, fuck... the... bell... so hot..." The elemental smirked and deepened the kiss, silencing his skeleton.

He happily gave in to the sweet attack on his senses, holding Grillby who was whispering some very kinky words to the skeleton while he kissed down the collarbone.

"fuck it, grillbz! There...!"

- BAANG!

"Flaming bastard, what have you done to my pathetic brother?! He didn't come home yesterday!"

The mood was killed. Grillby growled annoyed. "Tch. I've had it with Papyrus. I'll give him a piece of my mind. I've bitten into my tongue for a long time."

Sans watched as Grillby scooted up the plates with half finished 'dogs and put them on a table, turning to face his skeleton. The banging didn't stop. It got worse and he snapped, pulling the small skeleton up. "Come. We'll confront your dickhead brother together."

"what?! grillby, that is a horrible idea!"

He squeezed the bony fingers and Sans looked up at him. "I won't let him handle you like that. I am willing to fight him even."

He would? Grillby would fight the terrible Papyrus for...me?

No one was so good to me. He's too good for a weakling and useless bonehead like me, Sans thought while Grillby led them to the front door.

Sans put on slippers that were thrice his size and realized they were Grillby's. And Boss was yelling from the other side of the door, threatening to tear it down if Grillby won't open up.

The fire elemental held onto Sans' hand while he opened the door and they were confronted by the raging younger brother. "Ahaaa! I knew he was here! But, why is he here in the first place!"

Then he noticed the joined hands and went quiet for a moment, contemplating probably if he wasn't dreaming. Then he decided it was reality. "Brother. Why are you holding hands?"

Grillby inserted himself into the conversation. "As of yesterday, Sans is my boyfriend, my partner and I intend to form a soul bond with him one day. Did that satisfy your curiosity?"

Boss' jaw dropped momentarily, skipping from the elemental to his older, blushing brother. He didn't understand, couldn't process this information. And the fire elemental was far from done. He caught Sans' gaze and smiled sweetly before letting go. He jerked Papyrus inside his house and closed the door from spectators on the morning streets.

The tall skeleton wouldn't let be manhandled and Sans knew he was going to attack regardless of place or circumstances and he stepped in before it got haywire, blocking both from attacking.

"Sans, get out of the way. I will teach your brother a lesson." Grillby said calmly and Papyrus growled. "Ha! You two are so pathetic! Standing up for each other. It's disgusting!"

"So what if I love your brother. We chose what we wanted secretly all along." Sans flared up when love was mentioned. They never quite got to the confessing yesterday. He remembered only falling asleep in the elemental's embrace. Wow, this was way too much for Sans to handle in two days in row. The smaller of skeleton brothers glanced back, holding back the tears from joy. "y- you love me, grillby?"

"I have loved since you first walked into my bar."

Sans was stunned and Papyrus snorted, turning on heels. "You two make me wanna barf. I am leaving. I expect you to be at your station on time, Sans."

He left, shutting the door like it offended him. Grillby sighed. "I didn't need help, Sans. I would have beaten him. And don't think I have forgotten all the times you came to my bar because of your brother's really bad brotherly instincts, if he has any. I'll have a chat with him soon and next time, I won't have any disturbances. He may be the Head of the Royal Guard, but you are his brother, only family he has left and he shouldn't handle you like you're a stranger or some random monster."

Sans didn't know what to say. He was resented by everyone – thanks to Boss, his head of royal guard position and Sans simply went with it. Grillby cracked a smile, once more gently holding his bony hand. "Sans, I am here for you. From today onward, I share with you pain, sadness, but also hope and love. I'll be by your side." He kissed the skeleton's hand and Sans gasped at the romantic gesture.

He found himself tearing up, unable to hold back the mushy feelings, finally letting them loose. "grillby!" Sans was much shorter than the fire elemental, so he grabbed on the signature red tie and yanked him downwards. A bit startled, Grillby let the skeleton kiss him tenderly. When they parted, Grillby smirked, wiping away the tears. "As much as I like where this is going, we have places to be at. When we're both done, come here. I have a spare key. It's yours."

Sans took the offered silvery key and put it on his key chain and shoved it back into shorts pockets. "I'll treasure it. It's the first thing you gave me."

"And there will be more with more time we spend together. But enough for now. I believe we had hot dogs before your brother rudely interrupted our breakfast. Go to the kitchen and I'll bring the hot dogs and I'll make some eggs and bacon. We are grown monsters and one hot dog won't suffice till lunch break."

Sans nodded and went to the stylish kitchen, stopping at the dining table and taking seat on one of the two kitchen stools. True to his word, he was promptly back with the unfinished plates of 'dogs and set them on table. "I'll prepare the eggs 'n bacon. You just sit back and relax." The elemental said while he put on an apron so he didn't get his suit dirty.

Sans propped elbows on the table and dreamily sighed looking at Grillby in that apron. "did i tell you how hot i find you? and not just because you're fire."

Grillby snickered, cracking the eggs into the frying pan and soon the slices of bacon followed. "I can't tell if you're flirting or making usual fire puns, Sans."

"hmm...maybe both."

Grillby had to be careful not to burn their breakfast, so his attention turned to the frying pan and Sans simply watched his incredibly hot lover who rocked not only suits but also aprons by doing his daily routine for them.

Soon he was done and presented the skeleton with scrambled eggs and crusty bacon that smelled awfully good. Grillby joined him by table and the fire elemental resumed with eating his 'dog. "grillbz, bone appetite."

The elemental chuckled and 'dog got stuck in his throat. Sans quickly handed him a cup of whisky and he drank up. "By Asgore, Sans... hahaha. I'll have to get used to your witty puns."

Sans grinned widely as he finished his last bits of hot dog and dug into the Grillby special. "grillbz? can i ask you a question? tt concerns what you told b – papyrus."

"Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

The skeleton swallowed the mixture in his mouth, the flavor reminded him of childhood and the rare memories of peaceful domestic existence. Ah, good 'ol days...

"Did you mean the soul bonding?"

Grillby positively eyed him. "I meant it. Do you not want to?"

"no, no! i mean, i do. i want that. you're the best that has happened to me, grillby."

"Then? What's the problem?"

Sans put down the fork and avoided to look at the fire elemental. "i am the problem. i seem weak next to you. there will be a scandal and your bar will be in jeopardy... because of me."

He said what was tormenting him all those years when he decided time and time again to not tell the elemental how he felt about him.

Grillby also put down the fork, stood up and went along the table and knelt down to the sobbing skeleton. "Shhh. It's okay. Our relationship won't hinder me in the slightest. When someone gives us grief, I'll simply grill them to dust."

"it's not that simple, grillbz."

"It can be. Come here." He let his skeleton hug him and he was calming down in the warm and loving embrace of the flame that loved him indisputably.

"oh my god. you made a pun." Sans stated after good one minute.

"I am only getting flared up." Now it was Sans' turn to giggle and they disentangled getting back to eating the cold breakfast.

After finishing up their plates, they both checked if they had everything and Grillby brought his skeleton before the front door. Sans wanted to leave alone, but Grillby wouldn't hear nothing about it. "I bet your brother's tongue has already wagged about us in town. Come, I'll escort you to your station. I have half hour before the bar is opening."

Sans grinned. "no need, grillbz. i can be a capable fighter if needed. also, i have a shortcut. can you come closer?"

Grillby leaned down slightly and Sans inserted a chaste kiss on the elemental's cheek, blushing. " see you later. i love you, grillby." The small skeleton winked, snapped fingers and he vanished before Grillby's eyes.

The elemental held the place where the kiss was planted, feeling it burn up. He smiled. "I've known that all along, Sans."

Grillby then left for his bar, counting the minutes before he meets with his adorable skeleton.

#undertale #underfell #sequel #to Echo Flower #plz read that first #underfell sansby #angst #healthy dose of angst & fluff too #underfell papyrus is less of a douche in this

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